tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-16732000914987705232024-02-20T08:08:20.024-05:00You Leave Me BreadlessShining Through The CloudsAnnemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comBlogger570125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-83088527495545633772020-09-08T22:25:00.006-04:002020-09-08T22:32:57.959-04:00loss.. and life after<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b> Sometimes I miss you so much it steals my breath. It makes my heart beat so hard that I swear people nearby can see it beating from my chest. I once compared grief to spilling cold soup in your lap. You feel like you can't fix it, can't change it, and can't just walk away. Some grief is that way. But this, this is the kind of pain that picks at your bones relentlessly. You can feel it stealing away who you are inside just a little more every day as you try to pretend you are entirely fine.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>Fine. Fine.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>There is no such thing as ever being O.K again when you house this kind of pain inside of you. The pain you cannot escape from because even when you sleep it sneaks up on you and whispers in your ear.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>Loss.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>the pain of loss</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>The pain that settles in your bones when your heart is missing an integral piece that makes up the person you are.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>You never feel whole again from that moment.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>It's always there.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>Sometimes though you let it boil over, like an overinflated balloon. It screams to be let out, loosened, set fee. </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>The tears spill to the surface, they spill over your face like rain a summer storm and wash away any hope you had of ever feeling normal again.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>Sometimes in those moments you allow yourself to see what could have, should have, or might have become, if only...</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>if only...</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b> Haunting thoughts and words for anyone that has ever suffered loss.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b> If only I.. </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>my thoughts began and that was enough to open flood gates I wasn't able to contain the rush I had been trying to protecting myself against. I was blindsided.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b> Grief does that sometimes. It hits you like a freight train out of nowhere and there isn't a thing you can do to save yourself.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>August is hard. </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>because I miss you and who you might have been. </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>I was standing there raw in my grief, as if it hadn't been 19 years. As if It was a fresh wound still pouring forth blood and rage and fear.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>In some ways it is always fresh. You don't breath a moment without loss reminding you it there. It may not bubble to the surface frequently but it is always there, just waiting for the wound to open and bleed hot, fresh, and viscous over everything surrounding you.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>I have always been embarrassed by my grief for you. I am sorry for that. </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>I carry the burden of you alone.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>if only. ( there it is again )</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b> I am embarrassed by all of the pain this body and heart holds. It isn't just you.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>I have run from the grief many times, wrapping myself in a blanket of logic and excuse. I tried to run from it this time, but you know me too well.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>I tripped.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>Literally, tripped.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>I caught myself and looked to find what had tripped me intending to pick it up and throw it into the ocean for daring to stop me. What I saw stole all the air from my lungs. You ...</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>the reminders I see when I miss you the most.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>a single heart.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>sometimes you surprise me in a flower petal, or a misshapen cookie, a cloud, or a spill. Reminding me that you are still in heaven waiting... you got the better end of the deal my love. If you ask me.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>and there you were.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: medium;"><b>I may have never been able to hug you, but in moments like these I am sure you are hugging me</b></span></p><div data-block="true" data-editor="61to1" data-offset-key="2qsej-0-0"><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="2qsej-0-0" style="direction: ltr; position: relative;"><span data-offset-key="2qsej-0-0"><span><span style="font-size: large;"><b style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="background-color: #fff2cc; font-family: inherit;">
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font-family: inherit; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span data-offset-key="2qsej-0-0" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="2qsej-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span data-offset-key="2qsej-0-0" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></span></div><div class="_1mf _1mj" data-offset-key="2qsej-0-0" style="direction: ltr; font-family: inherit; position: relative; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span data-offset-key="2qsej-0-0" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></span></div></div>Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-77771084597336212242018-07-26T22:35:00.001-04:002018-07-26T22:35:14.290-04:00When It's Endless<div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB08eWdG7RRcmqGq80-3sBRt4krLb5f9-5yQWwMuYKbpjlCk1eR8ii2hyqkv2yiLc8rdmxUVD1kQKjHjFwknD8VKD3yYqWQPuv5S2Y98FCC7c_pS3lumK7QmsQcPAGd0nUxMFW6y9d8svj/s1600/DSC_0233-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB08eWdG7RRcmqGq80-3sBRt4krLb5f9-5yQWwMuYKbpjlCk1eR8ii2hyqkv2yiLc8rdmxUVD1kQKjHjFwknD8VKD3yYqWQPuv5S2Y98FCC7c_pS3lumK7QmsQcPAGd0nUxMFW6y9d8svj/s320/DSC_0233-3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Do you see those clouds? The seem endless don't they? As if they simply go on forever and never ever end. they seem so beautiful don't they? Those clouds as beautiful as they are carry rain and thunder. An intense storm dropped shortly after this photo was taken. Just a few hours later and these clouds became dark scary and powerful.<br /><br />That is my life right now.<br /><br />I am in the storm, not the eye , since that would be calm, but the thick of it. Swirling winds, pounding rain, and debilitating pressure.<br /><br />I am drowning.<br /><br />There doesn't seem to be an actual end in sight. There isn't anything I can do and I am just so tired of fighting.<br /><br />You know , no one wants to talk about this stuff. Depression scares people. They don't want to deal with it, they tell you to pray, they offer platitudes that do absolutely nothing. If a hallmark card fixed it , don't you think I would have done that already?<br /> Depression and talking about mental health makes people uncomfortable.<br />It's time we stop treating mental illness as though its a big scary monster under the bed. It isn't<br /><br />It's a big scary monster sitting beside people in your life right nowAnnemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-13709789419621673892018-07-25T22:17:00.000-04:002018-07-25T22:17:00.033-04:00Sometimes It's just hard to breath<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLaEAHxxbfQ3Nr4HFqzSD0_LM5m0oJhxeEhKkvCkzF5MLYFp-Qp5aRC1OM2faQ3hlxx1CBn62qrFdzZgzjz3nJrCaJd6yL7h09vASCMo12VL74Shz9MbVopyHDwogGajyjPdIOih0wN6Ka/s1600/DSC_0019-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLaEAHxxbfQ3Nr4HFqzSD0_LM5m0oJhxeEhKkvCkzF5MLYFp-Qp5aRC1OM2faQ3hlxx1CBn62qrFdzZgzjz3nJrCaJd6yL7h09vASCMo12VL74Shz9MbVopyHDwogGajyjPdIOih0wN6Ka/s320/DSC_0019-3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Most of you know the feeling, the weight on your chest, the restlessness in your body. That feeling that you just want to be anywhere but here. The feeling that your life is somehow being sucked away from you into a vortex of inability and disappointment. It will fade sooner or later. I have learned that much. This feeling doesn't stay forever, it just feels like it will.<br />This, restlessness...<br />It consumes me more often than not<br /><br />It could be because I am not doing what God wants me to. It could be because I am and somehow I should be learning from this. It could simply be that my brain is broken beyond repair. It could be this time , this feeling doesn't go away.<br /><br />I just can't breathe and honestly I am just so tired. I am tired of trying to smile when I feel nothing. I don't even really feel sad anymore. Just broken and restless.<br /><br />I feel like a failure. It's as if I just can't put the puzzle together even with the pieces numbered and placed in front of me.<br /><br />I just want to be anywhere but here. I want to be far away from whatever this is supposed to be.<br />
Most of all, I want to feel something.<br />
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<br />Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-16439777581423120982018-05-13T21:48:00.000-04:002018-05-13T21:48:00.062-04:00Mother's Day Without the Son<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWHeo83EnKkBOYDxmPh4WrP57HpNW88oGDHrv-fblksVri2i8OZNxMJIQFgzay6lpQv5eCR-QgFWobR8VcKG1ezvayLQrNlNWXOZizPvFCHVvAw1025YEuDlqrmJcwyuLHtNPSlsu1DwUu/s1600/summer+08+029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWHeo83EnKkBOYDxmPh4WrP57HpNW88oGDHrv-fblksVri2i8OZNxMJIQFgzay6lpQv5eCR-QgFWobR8VcKG1ezvayLQrNlNWXOZizPvFCHVvAw1025YEuDlqrmJcwyuLHtNPSlsu1DwUu/s320/summer+08+029.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
It all happened so fast. Time flew by and my babies grew. One is a Soldier, one is an Airman. One is married with a child, the other turned 20 today. One is working hard to be the best young man he can despite the difficulties that are in front of him.<br />
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It's my mother's day without the Sons. It couldn't be more fitting for the day to have been rainy , dreary, and sad. I tried to be happy but it was difficult.<br /><br />I had a moment in church when I realised that we fit in a smaller pew now. the girls with us, and Nate serving. I miss having all my children with me. I missing hugging them whenever I want to. Wrapping my arms around them , reminding them they are loved, and being silly with them. I miss the big boys breaking into wrestling matches everywhere. They really are best friends. Maybe I did something right after all?<br />I hope they know how loved they are. How blessed they have made me, and that no matter how far away we are from each other, I am just a phone call away.</div>
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<br />Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-54549942501698242152018-05-04T19:58:00.000-04:002018-05-04T19:58:26.700-04:00Little Hands and Gentle Hearts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Those little hands are Annabelle's. She is 3 now. I am not entirely sure where time went or how she is now a preschooler rather than a toddler. She is loving and strong and vibrant. Everything she is meant to be. She is amazing.<br /><br />But those hands, those hands remind me of the gentleness I need to put forward. The soft that makes me the woman God created me to be. I focus on helping my children to be who they are called, but I often forget who I am called to be.</div>
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Life is hard. Very hard. So many moving parts that create an insurmountable wall of fear and sadness. I often want to quit. I want to give up on everything and just fade into the darkness in my mind.<br />but I don't</div>
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Because those little hands need my guidance still.</div>
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Some days I can hardly breath. I just don't have the energy. But I keep going, because this is part of what I am. Who I am. </div>
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I am trying to learn from it rather than be destroyed by it.</div>
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Often, I am bitter and angry. I want to be spiteful and vengeful. I am after all human. But instead I silence myself and quiet my heart.</div>
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I just pray that this cloud goes away.</div>
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<br /><br />Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-81617885791571643602018-04-27T00:03:00.001-04:002018-04-27T00:03:11.560-04:00Batteries Not IncludedI'm here. Sort of. Albeit in pieces. I can hardly breath most days. My life is heavy and uncontrollable often. I put one foot in front of the other. Not because of any sort of determination but simply because dying is not an option.<br /><br />Our family has hit a rather dark and difficult place, as a result things have changed here dramatically. It will work itself out and I am doing everything I should. That does not make it easy though.<br /><br />This past year I was deeply hurt by a few very judgemental people that I trusted. It has left a rather bitter taste in my mouth and as a result I have shied away from writing here. Words can be twisted, and my heart just can't take that right now.<br />
<br />
So forgive me if I am not giving details, or posting here often.<br /><br />However...<br />Sam is now 13 and an amazing young man. He is currently back in public school and doing better than anticipated. He recently cut his hair. He is well over my height (not difficult) and strong as an ox.<br /><br />
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So that's the update for nowAnnemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-7588177653962496882018-02-16T00:54:00.003-05:002018-03-10T17:49:54.453-05:00re·sil·ience<b><span style="font-family: "courier new" , "courier" , monospace;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">re·sil·ience- </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">the capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.</span></span></b><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have heard it time and time again. I am strong, resilient, unshakable. Yeah, but no. Not this time.<br /><br />I feel as though I am drowning in a giant sea of cold, wet, sticky, mashed potatoes.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I don't know if I can recover from the mess in my world right now. It has forever changed everything about how I think. How I parent.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sometimes you have to make the hard decisions. Knowing you don't have a choice doesn't make it easier either.</span></span><br />
<br />Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-46297675302391708422018-01-19T12:24:00.000-05:002018-01-19T12:24:21.482-05:00Sometimes, It's just hard.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGkZ9bh14NO5jE4wKnYW0iI4wqIhQ0k0KcVsBpPdQyVv8IKjqPbmjA9VubZJ-f5Braw3AEV6_le8frRYh9UYpWeRCChLB_VEEMBVjO30oP7RDGjjRinip4AVDG0i5kOFXkX4-TWKwkdy4q/s1600/samandmom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="923" data-original-width="1029" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGkZ9bh14NO5jE4wKnYW0iI4wqIhQ0k0KcVsBpPdQyVv8IKjqPbmjA9VubZJ-f5Braw3AEV6_le8frRYh9UYpWeRCChLB_VEEMBVjO30oP7RDGjjRinip4AVDG0i5kOFXkX4-TWKwkdy4q/s320/samandmom.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by K. Ellington</td></tr>
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When you have a child with mental health issues as well as autism things get pretty murky. The world around them isn't set up to deal with it. The medical profession lacks knowledge and sensible options. Getting treatment for a child like Sammy can be near impossible. No one is equipped. No one has answers.<br />
<br />
Not even me.<br />
<br />
Not even close.<br />
<br />
Not even a little bit.<br />
<br />
My heart is breaking right now. I won't go into too much detail since I have discovered that some people in my world twist things until they are unrecognisable. I will say, Sammy is struggling right now, as am I. Our whole family is deeply shaken with uncertainty, doubt, fear,and sadness.<br /><br />Worst of all there is nothing I can do to fix it.<br />
I am powerless.<br />
except for prayer.<br />
<br />
So right now, it's just hard.<br />
It's like climbing a mountain, wearing a swimsuit, in February, without shoes.<br />But I will keep climbing because Sammy is already up the mountain and he needs Hero Support.<br /><br />so while I still don't want to deal with this. I will. I will fight the good fight and rest on my Lord. Because, sometimes it's hard...<br />
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But that doesn't mean impossibleAnnemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-40979625847015093442018-01-14T11:39:00.002-05:002018-01-14T11:43:45.911-05:00Everything is ...FineIt's been months, weeks, days, whatever since I wrote here last. I can't remember. You see I've been in a giant black hole for months. It was surrounding every fiber of my being.<br />
<br />
I spent days thinking about how I could kill myself in ways that my children wouldn't find me and be broken by it. I wrote and rewrote suicide notes to my children. Telling them over and over that it wasn't their fault. Telling them that I loved them. How could I say I loved them? How could I give up and say I loved them?<br />
<br />
So I kept going.<br />
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Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. for them at least. It was unbearable some days as I forced myself to get out of bed and teach them.<br />
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One day, at my lowest point I was sitting and really ready to just give up. I had cried all the tears, I had nothing left. I was simply a giant black hole. My sweet daughter Annabelle wandered into the kitchen and climbed up beside me. She hugged me and said , " I am your gift, You are my gift. I love you".<br />
<br />
This baby. I was horrified when I got pregnant with her. I was maxed out physically, emotionally,financially, and mentally. I just couldn't figure out how I would be able to care for yet another baby.<br />
But as always God knew best and gave me her, because that moment was on the horizon. She saved me.<br />
<br />
It prompted me to increase my medication, and I am on a much better path right now.<br />
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But that isn't why I am writing. I have been thinking about how mental health is treated in this society. People don't know what to say, or how to act when they find out you have depression. Some think they can just tell you to "snap out of it" others will say " well, it could be worse"<br />
I assure you, we know.<br />
we know it could be worse<br />
we know we should be happy<br />
we want to snap out of it<br />
we know we have so much to be grateful for<br />
we know we are loved<br />
we know people need us<br />
we know our children,families, friends,siblings, aunts, cousins... love us<br />
we know we have so much to live for<br />
<br />
but none of that matters.<br />
none of it<br />
Because the darkness is stronger than that. It swallows us whole.<br />
We begin to believe that we are being kind to those we love by alleviating the burden created by our depression.<br />
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Depression, deep dark scary depression, is exhausting. waking up every day, getting out of bed, and even eating, takes everything we have.<br />
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sometimes that is just too much to handle .<br />
So if you love someone with depression, just love them. be there. remind them they are safe. Love them. It's ok to be there with them and be silent.<br />
You can't fix it for them. You can't make it go away. We cannot just snap out of it. Just because we seem <i>"fine"</i> doesn't mean we are.<br />
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<br />Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-91587775521026502372017-08-15T22:38:00.000-04:002018-01-03T19:27:03.431-05:00Depression - Suicide - and the lies that your brain whispersLet me start by saying -<br />
I am safe.<br />
I am in no danger.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65vnzzHDkUZqZGQyZxI0v86Rld4GPxUV8lciX5gp0hQbaSojUHc2vruxUdWHgkLnWletO0IRVmcFbRZVTbRksdPPt5VGdHpxm8yDJrsbJ5fxMlNXGV40_BZjq4hsgC_mO7d9lza0_JtK3/s1600/IMG_1612.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg65vnzzHDkUZqZGQyZxI0v86Rld4GPxUV8lciX5gp0hQbaSojUHc2vruxUdWHgkLnWletO0IRVmcFbRZVTbRksdPPt5VGdHpxm8yDJrsbJ5fxMlNXGV40_BZjq4hsgC_mO7d9lza0_JtK3/s320/IMG_1612.JPG" width="320" /></a>I am in treatment.<br />
I am on meds.<br />
I am trusting in God.<br />
I am safe.<br />
<br />
I am not posting this for advice. Honestly, I just have to get this out so I can move forward.<br />
<br />
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Suicide - the check mate of the battle with depression. It's final. It's brutal. People are left in the wake of it, shattered, and drowning themselves. <br />
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Thet begin to ask why. How didn't they know they were loved? Why didn't they tell me? How didn't I know?<br />
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There is this fine line of deception that happens in the heads of someone that is depressed. Our brain plays tricks on us.<br />
<br />
We begin to believe that no one wants to hear it, no matter how many times other's reach out.We begin to believe we are a burden to our friends . That they don't want to know, because it's always us. <br />
Your brain begins to tell you that you are a burden on everyone around you.<br />
You believe it.<br />
You feel isolated.<br />
You fall deeper into the void of your own mind.<br />
<br />
You convince yourself that you aren't worth it, you aren't loved, you aren't able to take one more breath.<br />
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Because your brain whispers to you. It tells you that you are a burden to your parents, your children, your husband, your friends, your church. You begin to see that everyone would be better off without you.<br />
<br />
And you move forward with the belief that the world will be brighter without you. That no one is going to miss you.<br />
<br />
The truth is...<br />
The sun will still rise and set without you.<br />
The rain will fall, the birds will sing, and the flowers will still grow.<br />
But,<br />
The people that love you will never see those things again. Because your light is gone from their day.<br />
Because darkness swallows everything whole. It's the largest monster you will ever face down.<br />
I am facing it now, and I am terrified.<br />
But I refuse to let it take those I love too.<br />
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<br />Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-9507580000285633712017-06-20T05:11:00.000-04:002017-06-20T09:40:58.566-04:0024 hours and countingIn 24 hours I will be in plane. I hate to fly. Just thought makes my heart beat extra fast and my mouth get dry. I am so afraid. Flying for me is like standing in front of a firing squad. It triggers my anxiety in ways I can't even place into words. But in 24 hours I will be on a plane.<br />
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You see my boy has been at BMT ( basic military training) for 7.5 weeks now. The young man I would sit with on the couch and talk to about his day, the boy I hugged every day, the boy who made me laugh and scream ( sometimes at the same time) is graduating from the air force training program.<br />
<br />
The boy who took over 2 years to walk. MY LITTLE boy is now a man and a member of our armed services. He left me scared, and uncertain and I know I will see a confident man.<br />
<br />
As scared as I am I will do anything for my children.<br />
and now one of my children is doing anything for his country.<br />
<br />
my heart broke the day he left. You see it had to. That was the only way that it could ever have grown enough to encompass all the emotions I have running around in there now.<br />
<br />
I am so proud of him. I could just burst. He is part of the 1% of the population that chooses to support our country. I am proud of the man he is and how hard he has worked. He wanted this and he went for it. <br />
I am fearful. I am so afraid I will be handed a flag sitting by a graveside. My heart fears this like no other fear I have ever felt. I know I have no control. I know that I cannot change God's Will. I KNOW THIS. But this fear is always in the back of my mind.<br />
I am uncertain. I do not know what his future holds. Not that I ever really did mind you. He could be stationed anywhere in the world. I can't call his CO and complain they sent my boy too far away. <br />
<br />
But this is what he wants. <br />
In 48 hours he will be a real AIRMAN!<br />
In 48 hours I will hug him.<br />
<br />
How did my itty bitty baby get here so fast?<br />
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<br />Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-91452992214932432782016-01-27T08:28:00.001-05:002016-01-27T08:30:53.301-05:00Lost in Translation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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From the outside I seem together and normal. I look like everything is great. I smile. I clean. I teach. I pull myself together. What you don't see is the constant battle in my head. The constant fight to feel better. The constant work it takes to put one foot in front of the other.<br /><br />Don't get me wrong I have good days. More and more lately. It's getting better. The meds are helping. I am slowly getting better.<br />
But some days<br />
Some days I just want to quit. I really just want to give up. I want to step off this merry-go-round that we all call life.<br />
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I hear myself crying out from inside my head but the words somehow change. In my head I hear " I give up", "I quit", and "not one more step". These voices cry out so loud it is almost deafening. Like standing in front of a freight train that is barrelling down the tracks towards me.<br />The voice stuck on repeat that reminds me I am failing, falling apart, and broken. Those voices tell me time and time again that I cannot and will not be OK. It tells me that this is my new normal and it will never get better.It is loud and clear.<br />
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But somewhere it get's lost in translation.<br />
Those aren't the words I feel. Those aren't the words I say.<br />
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The quiet voice from my lips is simple<br />
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"Lord help me." "Mary pray for me" </div>
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I turn to my Lord when I can't turn anywhere else.<br /><br />You may be asking why I am writing this. There are a few reasons really.<br />#1. It's time we bring PPD and depression into the light. It doesn't make me weak. It doesn't make me selfish. I can't just "Get over it" I cannot just make it disappear. It's how I'm built. It's part of what makes me me in my own very unique experience. I have been dealing with depression off and on my entire life. The first time I remember feeling dark and hopeless I was young. Maybe 6 or 8 years old. </div>
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It's an undercurrent in my life.</div>
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#2. My god is bigger than my storm. I take my meds. I take care of my family. I do the things that need to be done. My god is the only one that can heal those wounds of my heart and correct and quiet the voice that tells me I am worthless. My prayers are heard.I am loved. and I will be ok. He is my voice of truth when I cannot trust my own. He is my rock that in these times I cling to. He is everything I need. </div>
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#3. To remind you that it's never hopeless. It's never hopeless. It's never hopeless.<br />I need to hear that sometimes as much as everyone else. I want you to know that if you feel as though you can't take another step or those voices are too loud to overcome or you just can't catch your breath, remember you aren't alone.<br />It's never hopeless. </div>
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And most importantly,</div>
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#4</div>
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If you are reading this and you think </div>
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Not. One. More. Breath.</div>
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Don't Give Up</div>
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Reach Out.</div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/">National Suicide Hotline</a></div>
Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-43611921046606816872016-01-09T22:00:00.001-05:002016-01-09T22:00:29.825-05:00Lonely in a house full of peopleI'm not alone in a room. Ever. I don't even pee alone. My girls follow me as I change my clothes and make my bed.<br />
Yet I still feel alone. Empty.<br />
The only thing that even seems to help is prayer. I know it will be ok.<br />
This is simply the result of having no car, of being stuck at home every day. all day.<br />I haven't left the house in a week. Even then it was only to go grocery shopping.<br />I don't really want to leave the house, to be perfectly honest. It's cold outside. I don't like being cold.<br />
We have gone down to one car. It's hard but it saves a ton of m<br />
oney. Right now that is important.<br />
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Even in a house where I can cuddle with children at night. Where I teach lessons all day and nurse a baby all night. I still feel lonely.<br /><br />It feels selfish to feel this way. I am so very blessed and I know this.<br />
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<br />Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-52765288965036424642015-10-04T00:55:00.001-04:002015-10-04T00:55:20.559-04:00Did I see you today?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRqAfHCyWqi-osIRJEhAGiWKd4s4_ipkymdrm0zLid9-_v-Gz08YmE_EjncrYtkk-FOh3nPAnh1xw80pbMnzZEsSVjoTSKRkfXJm1Q6imQZO158QWlCarlNji2gTjo3xof7l6uQLdIBTgP/s1600/IMG_2427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRqAfHCyWqi-osIRJEhAGiWKd4s4_ipkymdrm0zLid9-_v-Gz08YmE_EjncrYtkk-FOh3nPAnh1xw80pbMnzZEsSVjoTSKRkfXJm1Q6imQZO158QWlCarlNji2gTjo3xof7l6uQLdIBTgP/s200/IMG_2427.JPG" width="200" /></a>I held you today. I kissed your forehead and cheeks. I rubbed your head. I changed you, I fed you, and I listened to you. I spent time feeding you. I folded your clothes. I walked up the stairs countless times to put your things away. I held you as you cried, and as you slept. I smelled your skin and wiped your tears.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJvK6D3Nuq4SRoi-xBiMb3fsBdb2zgbfv3m5gwLUWhP9Yz5A-mwRcNRQvemCQrVxqVdMcsR1OuAOQL8LQnPB9eJp47daKW-IErGWvzK8H3VSpLv3e6rrAQe3h5NWlfpR7AadTqG6n-Qn40/s1600/IMG_2247.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJvK6D3Nuq4SRoi-xBiMb3fsBdb2zgbfv3m5gwLUWhP9Yz5A-mwRcNRQvemCQrVxqVdMcsR1OuAOQL8LQnPB9eJp47daKW-IErGWvzK8H3VSpLv3e6rrAQe3h5NWlfpR7AadTqG6n-Qn40/s200/IMG_2247.JPG" width="200" /></a>Every moment today was surrounded by everything that is you.<br />
But it wasn't until those last moments tonight while I had you on the changing table that I saw you. your sparkling blue eyes watching my face and mirroring my smile to you. Your soft noises and your giddy movements.<br />
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It was in that moment that I saw you.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuen3XXxdyuxJeBv0dKnhcLYPFIObt1CGsyPcvtKW43pzyrnMgJz83TZL55bdb0MYFATGXNPJlWGtZ267g-VPZc4BjbjHl_KEwZCXo1VWzZ4KicpWRqbSOWQL5gOXxDK6nUUvZ5wf930aG/s1600/IMG_2277.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuen3XXxdyuxJeBv0dKnhcLYPFIObt1CGsyPcvtKW43pzyrnMgJz83TZL55bdb0MYFATGXNPJlWGtZ267g-VPZc4BjbjHl_KEwZCXo1VWzZ4KicpWRqbSOWQL5gOXxDK6nUUvZ5wf930aG/s200/IMG_2277.JPG" width="200" /></a>The joy your smile and clear recognition of me brought me was immeasurable. It was my favorite moment of the day.<br />
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Then I wondered if I had seen your brothers and sisters today. Yes, I cared for them. I cooked for them. I cleaned, washed,wiped, and consoled them. I didn't see them all it seems. They blurred past me like gears in a clock wound too tightly. Flying by me as I blinked. This is why I will sit alone in a chair 40 years from now feeling as though I missed so much.<br />
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Tonight as I sit here writing and sipping my wine the thought occurred to me when I noticed my reflection in the screen.<br />
Have I seen me today?<br />
I saw every cobweb,every thing out of place. I looked in the mirror and saw my wrinkles and teeth that need work. I saw my grey hair and my extra pounds. But did I see ME???<br />
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I missed it, much like I missed the teen years wishing I could be thinner, prettier, smarter, more liked, famous, talented, and popular.That whole time I wanted to be anyone by me. I never saw the person I am trying to find now.<br />
The woman created in HIS image. The woman who is loved by God and her family and so many other people out there. The person who isn't perfect in any way, because it's those imperfections and wounds that bring me to HIM.<br />
I struggle with this beyond measure. I pray my girls will not. I have changed the voice I use to myself out loud so that they will never hear the same quiet voice I hear in my head. I want them all to see their own beauty and strength. I want them to know their weakness. I want them to know the cross he died on for us.<br />
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I struggle every day right now to even get up out of bed. I struggle to sleep at night still more days than I care to admit.<br />
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I miss me so much.<br />
But these moments are when I lean on My Savior and breath. The rest is up to him because even though I haven't seen me lately. I have seen HIM.Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-84240411664791021162015-06-22T23:29:00.002-04:002015-06-22T23:32:02.006-04:00Where to Put MeI sat here at the computer thinking "What am I feeling?" and all I could think was " I miss.." but the sentence didn't finish itself. I feel like someone died, but that isn't the case. It's as though someone is missing from my world, but that isn't the case either. The only thing missing , is me.<br />
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I don't know where to put myself. I feel restless, and edgy, and dark, and sad. I have so much to be happy for. Beautiful children, an amazing husband, a kitchen I cleaned with a toothbrush and toothpicks... yet, I can't breath. Everything is being put in it's place slowly. My house is getting back to the way I need it to be. I can't put me back together. I don't have a place.<br />
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Where do I put me?<br />
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There isn't any solace. There isn't any peace. It's as though my soul is just tired.<br />
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I lean on God. I pray. I know he has me, and that is likely why I am still pushing through this. My faith is one of the major reasons I am still here. My children need me to be better. My husband needs me to be better. I need this wolf to stop chasing me.<br />
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As hard as this is, she is worth it. they all are.<br />
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<br />Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-61374378543090805052015-06-09T23:47:00.001-04:002015-06-09T23:47:16.852-04:00I'm Not Home Yet<br />
This song sparks hope in me. It reminds me that no matter how much suck I have going on right now I am not home. this isn't the end. This isn't what it's about. I am bringing my suffering to the cross and taking rest in him. I try to remember to offer it up for those around me that are hurting and suffering. (thanks for the reminder my friends) In him, With him, and Through him I will find rest. Maybe not while my physical body walks this Earth, but some day.<br />
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But I still miss me. I miss the me that felt the sunshine. I miss feeling joy! Not just everyday joy, but the kind of joy that makes your eyes burn with the happiness you cannot contain.<br />I miss looking around and feeling like my life is a breath of air that fills my lungs. </div>
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I miss the sunshine.</div>
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I miss the warmth.<br /></div>
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I know I will feel those things again logically. But right now, it feels so hopeless. So impossible. </div>
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It makes me angry.</div>
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I should be happy. I have every reason in the world to be happy. I am so blessed! I have amazing kids. a handsome, caring, superhero husband. I have a house that fits us, a yard to play in, and clothes to wear. I have food to eat. I have people praying for me.</div>
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Yet, I feel undeserving. I feel selfish for feeling so sad. </div>
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Because I shouldn't feel this way.</div>
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I feel like a failure.</div>
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But I'm not home yet. This is not where I belong. I belong to HIM, and I belong in the light.The Lord didn't make me to cry and cower. He made me to shine.<br />It's going to take a while, but I have to believe I will get there somehow.</div>
Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-38507782895041017352015-06-06T23:31:00.000-04:002015-06-06T23:46:17.799-04:00Tough Choices<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX68QB1SkVxQ_O2FPhwAjevtEM-Rc_37mUJm7g1x8NvJl6M7KxZ-torZWvfabpkPrrRZ-nJgDebGZab3hpscv8RG88qmo-Cmgusv13ofZyBnzbww_xoL2Xvr_cVsKWfA8agFGE51Cz_O-B/s1600/IMG_1554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX68QB1SkVxQ_O2FPhwAjevtEM-Rc_37mUJm7g1x8NvJl6M7KxZ-torZWvfabpkPrrRZ-nJgDebGZab3hpscv8RG88qmo-Cmgusv13ofZyBnzbww_xoL2Xvr_cVsKWfA8agFGE51Cz_O-B/s320/IMG_1554.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Annabelle's first momma kisses</td></tr>
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I have a beautiful new baby,her name is Annabelle Rose. We named her after Saint Anne and Saint Mary. She really is wonderfully perfect. I am in love with this precious little life that has been trusted to me for her time on Earth.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Annabelle just hours old</td></tr>
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So soft and warm a squishy. She smiles and it lights the room. I can't stop kissing her. Annabelle has a wonderful combination of her two older sisters' features. Delicate like grace but with the same roundness as Evangeline.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Annabelle almost ready to come home.</td></tr>
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Everyone loves her! The boys can't get enough of her and are constantly loving on her. Grace watches her sleep in her chair at breakfast and often chooses to sit beside her on the floor with her food. Even Evie loves Annabelle, though their relationship can be a little rough at times.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kissing Annabelle</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Biggest Sister with Littlest Sister</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Loves from big brother.</td></tr>
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Everyone loves her. She is perfect. I should be over the moon happy. I should be beside myself happy. I have a beautiful new baby girl that I cant put down.<br />
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Not because she is fussy, but because I literally cannot put her down without checking her every 5 seconds to see if she is breathing. or bleeding. or choking. or a myriad of other constant crazy scenarios. I am constantly afraid I might drop her, or bang her into something, or that something is wrong. I worry she isn't eating enough even though she is growing wonderfully. I feel disconnected from her, like I don't really know her.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">figuring each other out</td></tr>
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And I just can't stop crying.<br />
<br />
I feel hopeless, and broken, and stressed. I don't want to leave my house. Even just a trip out to the backyard makes my palms sweat. I don't feel any joy. Her cry makes me anxious, not hurt the baby anxious, just why can't I figure this out sort of anxious.<br />
My anxiety is at an all time high.<br />
I'm not sleeping. Belle sleeps great from 11-4 most nights, but I can't sleep. Most nights I go to sleep around 2 or 3 and I'm up between 5 and 6 for the day. I am so tired but every time I sleep I dream about drowning, or burning, or falling, or being chased by dogs.<br />
I feel like I am living in a black hole without any hope of finding the light. I feel like a failure. I feel like a terrible mother that doesn't deserve this beautiful blessing God has given me. Everyday feels like Groundhog Day, it's all the same and it feels hopeless and lonely.<br />
<br />
<br />
I am broken.<br />
My husband calls me when I leave the house to make sure I haven't driven my car into the water.<br />
My son asks me why I look sad so often.<br />
My daughter wonders ,out loud, why I don't smile anymore.<br />
<br />
I am struggling with post partum depression. I have decided to start medication. My OCD and Anxiety are hard enough to handle on their own, but this has destroyed my ability to function.<br />
<br />
I am taking meds because my kids deserve a joyful mother. My husband deserves a joyful wife. I deserve to feel joy.<br />
<br />
and I don't.<br />
I am drowning in the deep end of the pool and I forgot my floaties.<br />
I miss the sunshine.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-59389820263491840182015-05-14T22:32:00.002-04:002015-05-14T22:32:16.535-04:00Chased by Darkness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
AJ has had a busy week, a birthday, a confirmation, a prom, and a concert!<br />AJ struggled this week with feeling stressed and full of anxiety. He struggled through feeling as though every inch of him was on fire. My poor sweet boy struggled this week with not having his brother by his side. </div>
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He couldn't understand what was making him feel this way.</div>
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Then one car went. Then the next began leaking gas. Then my husband began to feel stressed and upset. Then my father's stress level escalated. Then my mom's anxiety.<br />
<br />
Then I understood.<br />
Darkness always tries to steal the light.<br />
<br />
I stopped what I was doing and made a conscious effort to pray and get control.<br />
I had to explain to AJ that when we move to be closer to God the evil of the world tries to remove us from the happiness and graces that are headed our way. Because darkness sucks the energy out of the light.<br />
If the darkness steals your light, then it wins.<br />
<br />
We can't let that happen.<br />
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AJ was confirmed this week. He was sealed with the Holy Spirit! My oldest son was his sponsor. I love how close those boys are!<br />We were in danger of missing the confirmation, but after some vehicle shuffling we all made it there.<br />It was an incredible evening and I was so happy to see my son making such a giant step in his faith life!<br /><br /><br /><br />
<br />Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-50118701907453551822015-05-14T02:40:00.000-04:002015-05-14T02:44:08.643-04:00Pictures You Won't SeeIn my basement, on a ledge, is a stack of pictures set into frames I never hang. Pictures of the boys in matching yellow and blue sweaters. A picture of the three of us for the church directory. Pictures at Tyler's First Holy Communion. Pictures of the boys<br />
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<a href="https://scontent-lga.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xaf1/v/t1.0-9/226005_10150173364576607_6376405_n.jpg?oh=bd56984036a740e205f2416c883d860d&oe=560B3FDF" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://scontent-lga.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xaf1/v/t1.0-9/226005_10150173364576607_6376405_n.jpg?oh=bd56984036a740e205f2416c883d860d&oe=560B3FDF" width="320" /></a></div>
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Pictures of my boys and me in the years between. Between Daniel and Trevor, between broken and functional. Between here and there.<br />
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Those pictures are too painful to look at. Even 14 years later I still hold my breath when I see them. They bring me no joy. No comfort. My heart skips and I feel my stomach plummet when I see them.<br />
It was by far the worst time in my life, the most painful. It was brutal. The visceral reaction to those photos is overwhelming and unpredictable. They bring me nothing but pain.<br />
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And yet I was refined by fire, even then.<br />
<br />
I keep those pictures so that my boys will have them some day. I don't want them to not have that piece of their childhood simply because it was dark. It was dark for them too, but it was different in their eyes.<br />
<br />
I am finding out how well I protected them during those years. Too well it would seem. There are so many things they don't know. So much I will most likely never tell them.<br />
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And yet I was refined by fire, even then.<br />
<br />
Those trials as difficult as they were, shaped me into who I am. It created in me the destruction necessary to build an even greater masterpiece. One with faith as the glue.<br />
<br />
I was a pretty blue vase.<br />
The was shattered back then. The pieces were so small I couldn't fix it myself.<br />
I had to give myself and all of my brokenness to God.<br />
He created , in me, something amazing and even more precious.<br />
He made me a beautiful serving platter, to serve my family around me.<br />
<br />
Here I am , broken again.<br />
The pieces no longer something I can work with.<br />
I have no choice but to hand my brokenness to God and let him work with remains of that platter.<br />
Because as beautiful as it was, it still isn't what I am meant to be.<br />
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I have no doubt that I will be remade many times within this parenthesis. Not every time will be this brutal.<br />
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But for now,<br />
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I am refined by fire.<br />
<br />Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-42241718044217692572015-05-04T23:05:00.003-04:002015-05-04T23:05:40.578-04:00Sometimes I Get TiredSometimes I get tired. <br />
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Sometimes I feel like every prayer, every tear, and every breath is missing the mark. Not because of my Lord, but because I am human. because I feel unworthy to be heard.<br />Sometimes I am just tired<br />
<br />
Sometimes I just feel like I am being sucked into a black hole. <br />sometimes my brokenness just shines brighter than my spirit.<br /><br />Tonight is one of those nights.<br />tonight is a night where it feels like evil wins.<br />
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Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-13762013926109593202015-04-21T06:37:00.000-04:002015-04-21T06:37:31.217-04:00Praying for Them" <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">I told myself that charity should not only be a matter of feeling but should show itself in deeds. So I set myself to do for this sister just what I should have done for someone I loved most dearly. Every time I met her, I prayed for her and offered God all her virtues and her merits. I was sure this would greatly delight Jesus, for every artist likes to have his works praised and the divine Artist of souls is pleased when we do not halt outside the exterior of the sanctuary where He has chosen to dwell but go inside and admire its beauty.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">I did not remain content with praying a lot for this nun who caused me so much disturbance. I tried to do as many things for her as I could, and whenever I was tempted to speak unpleasantly to her, I made myself give her a pleasant smile and tried to change the subject. The Imitation says: "It is more profitable to leave to everyone his way of thinking than to give way to contentious discourses."</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">When I was violently tempted by the devil and if I could slip away without her seeing my inner struggle, I would flee like a soldier deserting the battlefield. And after all this she asked me one day with a beaming face: "Sister Therese, will you please tell me what attracts you so much to me? You give me such a charming smile whenever we meet." Ah! it was Jesus hidden in the depth of her soul who attracted me, Jesus who makes the bitterest things sweet! pp. 126, 127</span></i>"<u style="background-color: midnightblue; color: wheat; font-family: Times-Roman; font-size: 18.6666660308838px;">The Story of a Soul</u><br />
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We all have those people in our lives. The ones we don't like. The ones we can blame, whether it be righteous or not. We all have those people we would like to banish from our islands to protect our very own sanity. We all have someone to blame. Sometimes that person is staring back at us in the mirror, other times, it's someone with the worst representation of things we dislike in ourselves. Sometimes the person is just so broken that they cannot help but break everyone they come in contact with. Sometimes, that person deserves our disdain and anger. We want to wish punishment on them. We want to hate them, and they deserve it.<br /><br />It's so easy to blame and stay angry. I would prefer that entirely. Anger I can handle. I understand it, it's kind of my comfort zone really. Compassion has entered my life the last decade or so. Perhaps it's age and wisdom, or faith. Perhaps Jesus is working on those things in me that are unlikable. In the last 10 years he has smoothed out my edges. I am a work in progress like the rest of us.<br /><br />I want to be angry. To me anger is like a warm wool coat or an old friend. I take comfort in my anger. It's familiar, safe, and easy.</div>
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What is a girl to do when God asks her to step outside of that anger and pain? What then?</div>
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You pray for them. That person that is the thorn in your side or knife in your heart. You take a moment and pray. At first it's through gritted teeth, with clenched fists. Despite how you feel. It's brutal and it makes you feel raw and vulnerable.</div>
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Then something changes.</div>
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You see them for what HE sees them. You see their lonely brokenness. You see the bird that has fallen from the nest. The nest we all worthy of. So you continue to pray, and somewhere along the line, your heart gets healed. Your wounds, your tears, your desperation all fade into the time between.<br /><br />So you continue to pray... like it or not</div>
Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-42047789498668250422014-12-26T23:24:00.001-05:002014-12-26T23:24:31.823-05:00One PictureI wanted one picture of all the children in one place in their Christmas jammies. I felt like that was reasonable. I thought it would be fun.<br />
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Instead this happened...<br />
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at one point every single child from 10 down was screaming and crying. It was ugly.<br /><br /><br />
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Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-90577294699906203332014-12-05T23:55:00.000-05:002014-12-05T23:59:44.561-05:00I Promise You - I knowI can be high a little high strung at times. I worry about a lot of things. Crazy things. Things I won't go into tonight.<br />
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But I try really hard not to put that on my kids. I like to sit back and let them be free.<br />
I have been catching a bit of flack for it recently and I just feel like I need to be clear with something.<br />
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I promise you, I know most of what is going on. Some things get by my, as they do all of us. But we deal with things as they come up.<br />
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The world will not end because my son refuses to cut his hair, or my daughter wants to shave hers. I promise it wont make either of them serial killers or out of control teens. What it will do is make them feel heard.<br />
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I will sit back at the playground and allow my one year old to climb and jump where she pleases. If no one is waiting I will even let them go up the slide.<br />
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Or in our case , up anything they decide to climb (as long as it isn't destructive.) I promise they wont decide they don't ever have to follow rules, it might just give them discernment to know when to follow the rules and when to just let go.<br />
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It is't because I don't care. It isn't because I am unaware. It is because I trust them to know their limits. That seven year old on the monument has been climbing everything he could fit his pudgy toes in for as long as he could balance. Because, he learned how to balance and trust himself. He learned that risk is good.<br />
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I stood so close and silent when they were little. To catch them just in case they fell. Sometimes they did. Sometimes there was blood, tears, and fear. Through that , they learned their bodies and their boundaries and as a result they can be just a little more free.<br />
isn't that we all miss from childhood. The feeling of being free?<br />
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Because, that childhood freedom is fleeting. They grow up so very fast. I want them to enjoy these years even more than I do. Because in the end, I am not raising cattle, I am loving children.<br />
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<br />Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-72268122942035899182014-12-04T22:23:00.001-05:002014-12-04T22:23:54.376-05:00Graces and Joy I have been so stressed and busy lately. I haven't even had time to blog. Some days are just ugly and really, all I want to do is run for the hills. Alone.<br /><br />Some days just shutting the bathroom door or closing my eyes results in catastrophic wailing and mayhem.<br /><br />
Like Tuesday.<br />
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AJ was watching the kids. I closed my eyes for exactly 11 minutes when I heard " She got into the makeup!" and splashing coming from upstairs. Then I hear Grace giggling like a crazy woman and she screams " IT'S NOT MAKEUP IT'S POOOOOOOOOLISSHHHHHH"<br />
Yes my only bottle of nail polish was covering my girl, my sink, my floor, the door jam in the boys room, and the side of my tub and toilet. Oh and 2 toothbrushes.<br />
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AJ threw her in the tub hoping that since it was still wet it would come off. It did. sort of. It did dye her skin a bruisy looking red. He moved too fast to get a picture.<br />Very similar to when she got into the blue stamp pad!<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Stamp Pad</td></tr>
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<br />Grace is known for her messes and disasters. Like this last picture where she emptied out an entire bottle of baby powder while she was "napping"<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Powder<br /></td></tr>
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She cannot be left alone for a moment.<br /><br />Evangeline is in a clingy stage. she has to be touching me at almost every moment. Unless she is eating. Thankfully she loves to eat so that saves my sanity some.<br />
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<br />She loves to just be with me. She doesn't demand anything. Just my touch, and really she is so perfectly perfect how can I say no?<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">see! </td></tr>
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The combination of a great explorer , a cling-on, and two home school children is enough to put most over the edge. On top of that I am 21 weeks pregnant and GIANT!<br />
It's a recipe for disaster and temper loosing.<br />
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But it hasn't been<br />
There has been this outside myself sort of calm that has come with the days of chaos. watching my children be kids and live makes me heart feel so full it just wants to explode.<br />
I was overcome with pure and surreal joy just watching my children eating pie the day after Thanksgiving.<br />
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granted it was breakfast. But hey. shhhh<br /><br />I just feel like I have been given this amazing grace that is allowing me to get through some incredibly trying times. even today when my dryer went down, I didn't panic.<br />
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For me these things are huge.<br />
I am so grateful for the joy that has taken over in my house.Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1673200091498770523.post-3379706525558641142014-11-04T15:00:00.000-05:002014-11-04T15:00:04.848-05:00Every momentmake no mistakes<br />
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I am not saying that we should not or cannot complain when we are upset and stressed. I am not saying that we don't all have the right to cry, and be upset at some of the hands given.<br />
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But, every single moment in life has a purpose, a value.<br />
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With every pregnancy after loosing Emma I would panic from week 14 to week 15. Somewhere in that week is when my sweet girl passed. I would wake in cold sweats, my heart racing inside my chest so hard that I felt my ribs could break at any moment.<br />
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I lost my mind when I discovered that Evangeline's due date was a mere 10 days from Emma's. It was too close. I was convinced the pain would find me again. I was panicked and frightened. I was also clinically depressed , one might think.<br />
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Evangeline's birth provided me with closure I hadn't expected , but because God is bigger than my fears, I was able to feel safety again.<br />
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Then the healing began. It took the tragic loss of someone else to bring me to a point where I was able to heal and not feel so broken inside my heart.<br />
Seeing that moment in my mind's eye and knowing my sweet girl is safe and waiting healed the deepest places inside of me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRhqv5ZhaWdwK27b5KzOXjsgVHbMk-UexqiGnguXMsNkK6TXR6Y0eDf59sWbMZHhnW_QitHm6mC8IYukO0MNOsh7rL39cSZ0K2C0vyvU_4lQIgKyAvR5Y032EtYHMaClcQFk1Ds1E6Yxnd/s1600/IMG_9224.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRhqv5ZhaWdwK27b5KzOXjsgVHbMk-UexqiGnguXMsNkK6TXR6Y0eDf59sWbMZHhnW_QitHm6mC8IYukO0MNOsh7rL39cSZ0K2C0vyvU_4lQIgKyAvR5Y032EtYHMaClcQFk1Ds1E6Yxnd/s1600/IMG_9224.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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That doesn't mean that I don't miss her, or that I don't think of her all the time. What it means is that it is no longer a chain around my neck.<br />
<br />
I cruised through week 14 this time. One dream of my sweet girl. Holding hands on the dock sitting quietly.<br />
The healing continues for sure.<br />
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This time, it's different for me.I am grateful for every moment,kick, and heart beat this little baby growing in me has.<br />
<br />
So much is the life around us. The person-hood of everyone around us. The unique and irreplaceable soul that God gave all of us. The sick, the young, the old, the afflicted, the perfect... those dying with terminal illness. they all have a unique place in this world. Every moment of every life. Every single one. Even the ugly moments that hurt.<br />
<br />Annemariehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01129675317987044075noreply@blogger.com