it's been a while

As I sit on my front porch, I've skimmed lightly through some of my past posts. I havent been on this blog for quite a bit. Four years ago, my life and the lives of my family all changed. I look at pictures and I label them pre 2018 and post 2018. I absolutely hate what we went through. I'm still angry over it all. But I'm also thankful. During those awful and dark times, I didnt believe I would see any (positive)outcome. I believed I had lost everything and that I would have to start over. I thought everything had changed for good and I would never get my husband, my best friend, back.

Ive been to therapy. I'm not good at keeping up with it. Life happens. My kids happen. I cant seem to find the time for me. 4 kids get shuffled onto buses and one kid stays at home for homeschooling. My husband is working and they've added another day to his shift so now we only get Sundays off together. Therapies dont happen in the evening, they happen during school hours so, again, I cannot seem to find the time for me.

I find myself struggling recently. Staring off into space, zoning out out something negative. My reasonable brain tries to stop these things, but the bully part of my brain pushes any thought of reason out. I need to soak into the negative. It's funny, because I've had so many people praise me on always being able to see the lighter side of things- the positive spin, if you will. It's true, I can spin things positively on the external...but inside, I'm already ready for the worst case scenario and ten other narrratives that I've come up with in my anxious brain. I guess that is what trauma does to you.

But that's not why I'm here. I'm here because I'm tired of being one of those girls...you know the ones on tiktok that list off all their nervous tiks and issues and stemming and then answer it all with "because...trauma."

I've been through a ton. It sucked and if it were up to me, I'd rather just forget it all. Pretend it didnt happen. I mean, I guess that's avoidance, but is it really when I've lived in it, talked about it, wrote about, screamed about it, and cried about it? Maybe I'm just done. Maybe that isnt healthy, but I'd rather move on than soak in this shit until my fingers get all pruny.

If we are all honest, we've all experienced some form of trauma and I'm willing to bet if we scaled it all, there would be people who well outweighed our own traumas and have become successful human beings with happy healthy homes...and then there are those on the other side who have had smaller things happen on this all weighing scale...and are just an absolute wreck.

Is it possible to just move on with it? Can we just get over it? Can we stop being "triggered"? I'm not shouting this out to you because I can already feel readers bristling at what I am saying and if you are bristling, then maybe you should ask yourself the same thing, maybe...just maybe youre living too hard in the life of "I'm a victim"..

No, today, I am asking myself: Can I fucking get over it already? Can I stop being afraid to write in my own physical journal because I'm somehow terrified that if i write something down, I will write it into existance? (seriously, this ridiculous belief lives in my head) Can I just live in a day with my husband, let him be goofy, and not constantly question if this is a manic phase happening again? I annoy the hell out of myself. I'm tired of being paranoid. I'm tired of it all. I would prefer to choose happiness.

I'm tired of seeing the sadness around me. Stop seeking out other damaged people and believing you are kindred spirits. You are not kindred spirits. Fix yourself and learn to be happy before anything else. A post has been making its rounds on social media about how you are responsible for your triggers and that it isn't the world's obligation to tiptoe around you. And to me, this is true. I'd rather go back to a time when there was less concern about hurting someone else's feelings. When there wasnt a need for safe spaces and the instant gratification of the internet appeasing your busy mind.

I feel like so many of us are just letting what has happened to us *continue* to define who we are, how we behave, who we are attracted to, how we live...and that is just fucking wrong. If you're doing something and your reasoning is because of trauma, triggers, etc....then you need to stop. Tell your therapist. Tell someone. Reach out and figure YOU out. Stop letting the bad things that happened control one single aspect of your life because let me tell you...I've done it and I'm fed up with this bullshit.

Through the Looking glass

I've caught myself wondering a few times this month if I've somehow acquired seasonal depression. Where Christmas used to be this magical time of year, this year I could barely drag myself out of the house. Where trees were in every room of my house, decorated and themed...this year they were went up, with lights and save for our living room tree, no decorations were added. Christmas day, I just didnt want to go anywhere..and the day after, my trees and deco came down swiftly.... I still didnt feel "better". I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror today and stopped and stared. Who the hell am i these days? The autumn of this year was shitty, to put it lightly and even through therapy, I dont think I've recovered I dont know that i will ever recover who I was before everything went to hell in a hand basket. I look in the mirror and I dont see strong. I see broken. I dont see resilience. I see exhaustion. I see downright sadness that is pulling me deeper and deeper into an abyss and I am too fucking tired to worry about it. I see bitterness because so few understand or know the mountain of issues I am battling...including dealing with one monster that has taken one of the closest people I could run to and alienating that relationship. I had to go through a box tonight and near the bottom were all the papers from September. All of Arnie's "notes" while he was in his steroid induced haze of crazy. And just like that: what I thought was a new pink scar suddenly became an open, gaping wound at a glancing through of said paperwork. I wanted to burn it but it wouldnt satisfy the rage I feel towards that life altering event that has no one to blame and everyone to blame all at the same time. All the awful things that were said...memories that I cannot erase seem to play on repeat on days like today. How no one in the medical field would listen to me. How I had NO rights. How I was left alone and hopeless. Hopeless. I see that, too, in that glance in the mirror. Hopelessness. And I dont need a list of how I'm blessed. I go through that list daily... and dont I know things could be worse...but do I really need reminded of that? I kind of bristle at the new year, new me posts. I dont want to tempt fate. Honestly, after what I walked through in 2018, I'm afraid for what 2019 may have in store for me. One thing is for certain, I realized first hand and the hard way that absolutely anything can happen to you in the blink of an eye....at the drop of a dime, your life can change and all that you knew and loved and found comfort in could be gone.

Take the picture

If you are happy right now, do yourself a favor and take pictures of these moments. Write about it, make notes, smile until your face hurts and then take more pictures. Life can turn on a dime and in that instant, your happiness can be stolen so quickly you won't have an opportunity to catch your breath. So take the photos. Remember the moments. Take a video of the laughter and love and light you have shining .. Because some day will come when you will cling to those memories so hard you will fear that you might break them. You will look so hard for a moment when it didnt hurt to smile that you will shake with pain and torment. Have proof that there were good times. Have some documentation that you were happy Because when you hit rock bottom, if you dont have those memories, you will be like me. A ghost. A sad bag of bones wishing you could just die. Struggling to breathe from the misery of losing everything that you didn't even realize you were taking for granted in the first place. Clinging to a person you loved...and who once loved you...with all your heart...with everything you ever had...clinging to them even when they've broken your very soul into so many pieces that it is basically just dust in the wind. I cant be put back together. This cant be undone. So take the picture, trust me. You'll need it.

life, for now

There's something to be said for mothers. We are resilient creatures, we are strong, and we are dirty liars. No matter how bad things are, how sick we feel, or how many things are going wrong; ask us how we are doing, how we feel- and we'll answer with a smile and the token answer, "I'm fine."
We lie. We lie through our teeth about how we're just fine as the walls are crumbling down around us.
It is simply impossible to know just how dark the days are, how lonely nights can be, in one mother's life. There's no counting the tears or catching one's self before a breakdown occurs.
The nicu broke me, newly a mother to 4, of believing I was any kind of strong. I wrote this small bit while our son was in the nicu. I sat in the dining area with two of our kids, watched my husband head over to the nicu and then I broke down. I sobbed heavily and decided I needed to put words to my tears.
-For 3 days I have sat here, multiple times a day and had mini breakdowns. We sit here as a family and try to be normal for the kids. We have meals that we had at home. We eat fruit snacks and just sit for brief moments. Then either Arnie or myself needs to leave. It's time to see Jacob. My heart aches that I am away from him at all. I feel sick with worry. Heavy with guilt. Regardless of which one of us goes, I break down. I wait until I see him take leave out the front door or I stand, in my own world, in the west elevators and begin to cry. I cry because I'm angry. I'm angry at myself for being selfish. I'm angry for ever complaining about being "big" and pregnant. I'm angry that I didn't get to enjoy those last two months of pregnancy. They were robbed from me and from Jacob out of nowhere. It wasn't preterm labor that robbed me- but a fluke of nature that deep down, I am 100% thankful was found but at the same time, I'm so angry and hurt. I'm so mad that I can't just sit and really cry because it hurts physically to cry that hard. I'm mad that my kids see me cry so often and quickly want to know what's wrong. My three year old, in all his wisdom, answered the question on his own yesterday as I sat in this dining hall with tears streaming down my face. He answered by saying, "I think she's sad because she wanted to hold Jacob and wasn't allowed today."- spot on, son. He hit the nail on the head. I'm also angry because I want to feel remotely normal but instead I am a jumbled ball of wired emotions, all fighting to escape me at the same time. Everything causes me to cry. I can't even explain myself to Arnie without breaking down. On another level, I am elated to have this new bundle of joy, who is doing as well as can be expected for his sweet, young age. My heart pounds as I round the corner to his room and see his cute, tiny body laying peacefully. My soul aches to pick him up and love him...but instead, I cautiously touch him, careful not to startle or wake him- just enough to feel him breathe and soak in his warmth. I steel myself for the nurse's news, praying to hear good news, progress, or holding steady.-

So I'm writing *now* to just tell mothers: cut it out. Don't lie. We are not always fine. We are tired. We are angry. We are sad. We are hungry. We are great.
Just don't lie.

So today I am not lying. I am not fine. I haven't been fine since the csection permission forms were laid on the hospital table. I have been broken, perpetually worried, feeling alone, constantly sad (yet elated at Jacob's health), and drowning in my own tears.
I was traumatized by the shock of the quickness of our premature birth. I felt, and still feel, like the ultimate failure. My body failed Jacob and me and continued it's systematic failures by refusing to produce milk for my precious boy- what he needed to help sustain his life, to help him thrive, I could not provide. I did EVERYTHING in my power to get my milk supply up and nothing worked. I pumped every 3 hours for 24 hours in 30 minute intervals around the clock for 3 weeks. Nothing changed. I spoke to lactation consultants, i called doctors. I made myself sick taking supplements but nothing worked. I was chained to a pump to produce less than 2 ounces in a 24 hour period. I was told to give up.
I was torn every day on how to spend my hours. I needed to see Jacob. Even if I couldn't hold him. My heart ached to be near him. I had to pump every two to three hours; we were encouraged to be a with Jacob for all his care times (every 3 hours), and we also had our 2 toddlers with us who needed their parents and needed normal. No matter what I did, I felt like a terrible parent. And every time I was asked for my milk for Jacob, my failures multiplied. I was exhausted, physically hurting from surgery, and emotionally drained...but when someone asked how i was, i would force a smile and say that terrible lie: I'm fine.

We're home now, thank God, but these feelings haven't left. I can't see a pregnant lady without fighting back tears. I can't show up at some place without realizing that the last time I was there, I was still pregnant and things were still normal. So, I cry. All the time. I am not fine.
Don't tell me things could be worse. My dark and terrible brain has already run the gamut of how much worse it could be. Where i am now is dark enough and I feel like I am hanging on the rim of a deep well. Am I fine? Hell no, I'm not fine... but I will be. I just need time. I am working on it. It starts by being honest with yourself and with others who care. I'm not fine yet, but I will be.

Book Review of Cottonmouth and the End (C.S. Fritz)

Cottonmouth and the End by C.S. Fritz is the final book in a series of three that carries you through the spiritual and physical journey of the young Frederick Cottonmouth and the mysterious creatures he meets along the way.
Your heart will ache for Frederick. You will sympathize with his desires. You will root for him to do the right thing. You will be pulled down "the rabbit hole" through the detailed illustrations. Fall in love with this book, with this series; fall deep into the words and feel the breeze on your face, hear the river that Freddie finds so comforting.
Pick up this book, no matter your age, and open its pages with the innocence of a child. You will find, as you finish this adventure, just as Freddie did, that God is near you, always.

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Book Review of Kelly Pulley's Treasury of Bible Stories

When I received Kelly Pulley's Magnificent Tales, Treasury of Bible Stories (Rhythmical Rhymes of Biblical Times), I was overjoyed. It is a hardback book, beautifully and colorfully decorated on the inside and out.
I sat down the first day and read the book to my 2, 3, and 10 year old kids. We took our time, enjoyed the illustrations and often read pages over and over in different sing song voices.
Kelly Pulley takes from the Bible and tells the stories of scripture in such a fun and easy to understand way that it kept all my children captivated and they did not want to put this book away. It has been my go to night time book since receiving it and it has taught my kids so much about the Bible!
The illustrations are realistic, yet have some cartoonish aspects to them, making them fun to look at and educational at the same time. The bright colors on every page grabbed everyone's attention and held it.
I have struggled for a while with sharing scripture with my younger two children and being able to keep things on their level and keep their attention for any amount of time. I have a stack of children's bibles that have not cracked the code of my kids. This book has done the trick. They love being read to from Kelly Pulley's Treasury of Bible Stories!!
I highly recommend this book for anyone who works with or has children of any age. Not only is it a blast to read, it is entertaining to watch your children read through this book and it is absolutely heart warming to see their love of scripture grow with the turning of each page.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CPW8ehz5-jM&list=UU4vF_MunQDVGg-P497Bj6nA 

Book Review of Kyle Idleman's Aha

Kyle Idleman’s book, Aha, steers you away from the self-help section of the land of books and helps you realize that maybe, just maybe- you aren’t enough to help yourself. Perhaps you need . . . something more.


You are taken to a place in the Bible that, if you’ve ever wondered from the familiar (be it church, your family, anything) and turned your back on it all, you will either already know- or you will just feel better about "coming home". It is the story of the prodigal son. It’s a story that I cannot read without shedding a tear. Not because it makes me sad, but because I have been there and I know the truth of this story. Our loved ones (and God) want us to come home. They do not care where we have been or what we have done while we were gone, they simply want us home.

"He sat straight up and suddenly realized what his life had become. He wondered how things had turned out this way. When he’d left his father’s house, he’d never imagined it would have come to this. This was never part of the plan. But now life had his attention, and he knew things had to change. One moment he was sleeping, the next he was awake." (Idleman. 2014. P.30, 31)

Ever been there? Does it sound or feel familiar? If it does, then read Aha. Read it with openness. Read it with your Bible open beside you. Kyle Idleman takes passages and parables from the Bible and he will help open your eyes to the "alarms" that may already be sounding in your life. Stop hitting the snooze button. Stop walking into libraries and book stores, and thinking books written by other humans with just as many problems as you can help fix you. Throw your misconceptions about God (He’s unreasonable, unpleasable, unmerciful, uncaring, etc) out the window and see that God just wants to you to come home. I read somewhere on Facebook a quote that said, "Satan knows your name, but calls you by your sin. God knows your sin, but calls you by your name." There is truth in those words. God does not care what your sin is or was, He’s there to tell you it doesn’t matter, He loves you regardless, and it’s not too late to do the right thing. (Idleman. 2014. P.37)

Idleman goes on to discuss how deeper spirituality, more often than not, results from difficult circumstances. You may find that your day is filled with clutter and insane schedules. You may have little to no time for God or prayer in your life. But then something devastating happens: in my own family’s case, unemployment. I would like to say that I spend a little time every day talking to God in prayer, but prior to this circumstance, I doubt I did. I can guarantee you that in those long drawn out months of not knowing what we were going to do financially, I spoke to God every day, and it wasn’t just about my problems. I learned in those months to celebrate the smallest victory and to stop complaining about things in general. I learned to be thankful for everything. I learned to trust my husband in every course of action and to verbally cheer him on in his ventures. Without the difficult circumstance that happened in our lives, I would not have grown closer to God. Along that same thought, Idleman tells an abbreviated story Gerald Sittser who through incredible loss and grief comes to the realization (as we all should) that it is not the loss, the hardship, or the difficult circumstance that becomes our story; it is our response to it that will define us. (Idleman. 2014. P.56,57)

I have heard Psalm 46:10 for the better part of my life from multiple facets: "Be still and know that I am God." I have never really found comfort or great meaning in that verse. While some of you may be gaping at the screen right now, it is true. I would read it and think, "that’s nice." That’s it. It was not a great, fantastic, moving verse for me. Until it was what I needed. My life had gotten too busy. Everything was hectic, we were always running late, (we still are, but without the negativity) I was angry all the time, our family was falling apart at the seams. Then, I read that verse. It hit me as though I had run full force into a brick wall. "Be still! Be quiet, sit still, and just listen and know that I am God." My heart stopped pounding with panic. That short verse from Psalms packs a punch. It just took a lot of alarms going off in my life to realize it. Idleman illustrates this perfectly.

In closing, you should know this book will contain a lot of "kick yourself" moments of looking back on moments in your life and realizing you should have seen the signs. It speaks to the obvious a great deal . . . and while that seems simple and you may ask yourself why in the world you would need to read it- I’m going to ask you to just stop. Stop and listen. Is your life spiraling out of control? Do you feel like your marriage is on the verge of failing? Do you feel like you’re on the edge of a constant disaster? Do you simply have a feeling of guilt that you constantly push away because you do not want to deal with it right now?

Read this book. Read it and open your heart. Maybe it isn’t speaking to you, but to a friend or a loved one. Read it. Read it and realize that your problems are probably bigger than you and your stack of self help books, but nothing . . . nothing in this world is bigger than God. Kyle Idleman’s book is not a self help book, as he will tell you. It is a book that makes you feel good, that will convict you on multiple levels, and reminds you through parables, Bible verses, and true life experience, to be still and listen to God. This book made me laugh and this book made me cry, but most of all this book caused me to realize God is always there, always willing to give us a warning (if not more than one) before we make some cataclysmic mistake that will cost us dearly in some way. Never has the phrase, "make wise choices" made so much sense.
Read this book and come home.

Follow me on facebook (name Amber Maynard Dugan) and become entered to win a free copy of Aha, or simply order your copy here:
 http://kyleidleman.com/pre-order-aha