Hey J-J-Jaded

"Inside of every cynical person is a disappointed idealist." -George Carlin

In yesterday's (very good) sermon about race and The Gospel, our pastor described what it looked like to get burnt out on social justice. These burn outs are people who have labored and labored to bring reconciliation and peace to the people around them and have seen NO fruit. Not only have they seen zero results from their anguish, they have, figuratively, "had their teeth kicked in". He described this group of people as "cynical". That concept resonated with me...HARD.

Do you know what happens when you take a tenderhearted idealist and toss her head first into the gritty reality that is our world? It hurts her...frustrates her...grieves her. Being the Nerdy-Nerderson that I am, I looked up the definition of cynicism and felt it wasn't QUITE the word I would use to describe the soul-sick, faithless, hopeless, pessimist that I have become. No, the best term I could find that encompasses the nothing-left-ness of my heart is...jaded.

Of course, I didn't really realize this truth until it was presented to me objectively. I would have said that, like everyone else, I am a realist...and reality is cruel. On some level, that has to be true. But for someone whose life purpose has been to be a consummate helper, I think that reality somehow just SEEMS meaner. When the standard is for everyone to get along...for all people to feel valued and valuable...failure FEELS magnified.

It's taken a while for me to get to this point of full scale jaded-ness. I've been knocked down a healthy handful of times. Until Foster Failure, I had at least attempted to limp along. After I burned out as an inner city teacher, I was still able to muster up the strength to keep my toe in the world of education as a substitute teacher. After I went on several short term foreign mission trips and saw that we were NOT helping, I was still able to move to the heart of my home city, believing that I could make a difference with my life. After our we disrupted our first and only foster placement...I.just.couldn't. Everything hurt and nothing made sense anymore.

After Foster Failure, I cut everyone off. I literally snapped back into the safe walls of my own home. I stopped seeing my friends. I loathed going out...especially if I had to meet new people...especially any new person who might NEED anything from me. For the last three years, I have barely done more than the emotional minimum to sustain my life.  For whatever reason, that event took me from wounded idealist to full blown jaded...especially with regard to my faith.

I've been on shaky spiritual ground for three years. I mean, I've always been a little soft on being disciplined enough to read my Bible and carve out time to pray on a daily basis. But for the last three years I have been actively ANGRY with God...felt BETRAYED by God...and TERRIFIED to engage with Him because I am afraid He will CRUSH me again just to teach me another life lesson. I don't think I can handle it. So in an act of self preservation...I've cut Him off too.  

When I became a Christian, it wasn't after long, labored studies of comparative religions. I didn't research all of the theological and historical minutiae of the faith. What happened was, the Spirit of God whispered to my heart and I responded. Something OUTSIDE of me, called me into relationship with God. Yes, I CHOSE it, but I feel like it was what is called "irresistible grace". I had the freedom to walk away but why would I WANT to. The voice that spoke everything into existence was 

calling out to me. My soul knew His voice, so I believed. And...I believe still. It has been anguish to believe something to be true...but be too wounded and afraid to live in that truth.

I don't desire to be bitter and cynical. It's not a "pleasure from pain" kind of situation. I hate it and it's obvious to anyone who knows me well that it isn't my natural inclination. At the same time, however, I'm not sure how to both long to love people and nurse the intense grief that comes from the rejection of that love. I don't know how to both surrender myself to a God that I am CERTAIN loves me and walk with Him on a path that I am CERTAIN will destroy my heart. Because I don't know what to do...I've chosen to do nothing. That...I think...is the essence of being jaded. Wanting to care and being petrified to do it. 

This Body of Stress

This week has been quite emotional for me and my family. We have experienced two deaths within the span of only five days. My heart has been flooded with memories, sadness, and grief. My little brain has persisted under a barrage of logistical tasks and preparations for getting myself and my family through two funerals. In general, I'd say that I am managing my emotions and stress in a healthy way...yes, I'D say that...but my body tells a different story. This flesh that I occupy has a ridiculously low threshold for stress.

Every time I am presented with an ounce more stress than I can handle, my teeth clench, my shoulders tense, my muscles ache, then I either get a raging cold or an intestinal bug. And it might be a little bit of an overshare, but in the last few years, even my cycle gets all goobered up by any amount of stress...which is a delight, let me tell you. I have wasted about a dozen pregnancy tests in the last two years. The only thing that really helps combat these "illnesses" is sleep. But, who wants a wife, mother, or friend that just sleeps all the time like a big sloth?

As with my mental health challenges, I can trace this all the way back to my childhood. When I was little my school nurse diagnosed me with a "nervous stomach". Looking back on it now, it was just a kind of genteel way of saying I was a stressed out kid. In high school I went through a battery of tests because I was having the painful symptoms of an ulcer. Of course it didn't occur to me that my extremely rigorous class and extracurricular schedule were probably more than I should be handling. During every holiday break from college I was plagued by a persistent, nasty cold/flu....EVERY one. As an adult, I feel like I am sick ALL of the time. Like...ALWAYS sick. I feel a little like a hypochondriac...except I have actual illnesses.

It makes me feel weak and ashamed to have a zero ability to handle stress. Who the hell gets sick from the normal rhythm of life? Me. That's who. I am not really sure how to combat this problem. I see a therapist, am on an antidepressant, and try really hard to manage the trouble of the everyday in healthy ways. What else can I do?

Lenten Fast 2015: Facebook

We belong to a church that is not super specific about the Lenten fast. It's always been my understanding that I could choose to forgo anything that gets in the way of  my relationship with God. In the past I've given up sugar, screen time, and unsuccessfully tried to fast from complaining. This year I'm choosing to give up Facebook for Lent.

The internets like to make fun of people who give up things like Facebook for Lent. Well, the internets can sit on a tack! As an extrovert who was a stay at home mom for many years, I've come to depend on this website VERY heavily for human interaction. I am definitely going to "feel the sting" of being removed from my beloved social media site and spiritual growth is likely to happen.

Why Facebook: It's for my own good. First, I can't seem to stay out of trouble on this website. I try REALLY hard not to comment on people's controversial timeline stuff, but try as I may, I still often end up in trollish debates with a person who is a friend of my friend. In real life, I would not give a rat's ass what that friend of a friend thinks about my opinions...but put it on Facebook and I care a great deal. Secondly, I tie my worth to how many "likes" my statuses and blog post receive. Not always, but too often to be healthy.

The way that I interact with social media in turn effects my mental health. I get all worked up. My deep seeded need for approval and validation bubbles to the surface and I am miserable. No website should make me feel depressed and anxious...it's ridiculous. God has placed a holy soul in my inmost self, good brain in my head and wonderful, encouraging relationships in my life. I let a stupid website come along and completely invalidate all of that.

What it is: 

• Very simply, I cannot go on Facebook from 9:oopm on Wednesday, February 18th until after Easter service on Sunday, April, 5th. There are no times when I am allowed to log in and check my timeline...just not.at.all. The plan was to deactivate my account so that I wouldn't be tempted. However, I use several sites which require me to log on using my Facebook account. I don't want the drama of creating a bunch of new passwords and logins. To help myself stick to the fast, I plan to remove the app from my phone and put a super short timer on my laptop (so I can still tap into the account if I need to sign onto linked websites)

• Because I primarily share my blog via Facebook, I still intend to use it to that end. When I do a Facebook share, I don't really go onto the site, I just send the link to my timeline via blog page. Because I don't have an opportunity to see or interact with people's timelines, I'm going to allow it. 

• I've let people in my life know that they can contact me by email or text.

What it ain't:

• I am not intending to circumvent the fast by building up my Twitter account or whatever the hell else there is by way of social media. 

• Pinterest will be allowed because I don't really use it as social media. It's more of a Google search shortcut for me. No drama. Just recipes and home decor. 

In undertaking this fast, I am not trying to say that Facebook is evil. It's neutral. The way I sometimes use it, it can be harmful to my heart. I have allowed people that I don't know to injure me on a soul level. I have allowed people who are meant for relationship to define my ultimate worth, God should be affecting me on a soul level...He should be determining my worth.

Lent. It's a thing.

But You Said You Didn't Believe In Dieting?!?!?!

I don't believe in dieting. Let me say it again, in my experience, dieting does not work. Science agrees. Statistically 95% of people who lose weight on a diet gain it back and often the pounds come back with a few friends. Between 2002 and 2003 I lost 100lbs on a popular diet. The weight crept back on and now I am heavier than I've ever been...and frankly heavier than I am physically comfortable being. The diet industry is an INDUSTRY. They could care less about my life and my health, they just want muh dollas.

Though I have flipped the middle finger to society's rules about weight and the health care industry's obsession with linking health and weight, I do think there is a number on my scale that says, "hey lady, we need to pay a little more attention to what we're doing here". I currently don't feel comfortable in my body.

I briefly thought about running back into the arms of the program that helped my lose weight a decade ago (geez I am old), but then I decided I didn't need the stress of conforming to that plan. Because, as we know, I have to be VERY protective of my stress level and where I spend my emotional energy. My mental health is of paramount importance to me. So, I just decided to look at the calorie amount that was suggested for very gradual weight loss in a woman of my weight class. After peeking at a few sources, I settled on a number and downloaded a tracker.

So yes, I am counting calories, but please hear me and believe me when I say I AM NOT ON A DIET. The amount of calories I am allotted each day is generous. For me, this exercise in counting calories is not about coming in under and feeling smug or feeling guilty for going over. It's really just about mindfulness. For example, through tracking, I have realized that I drink about 300 calories a day...that's more than 10% of my daily calories. It's more than it should be. Through tracking and mindfulness I also continue to observe that the ONLY time I get out of control with my eating is 4:00PM...it is a a struggle EVERY day!

I am following parts and pieces of various healthy/allergy dietary guidelines...but not subscribing to a "diet". My naturopathic doctor put my on the Blood Type Diet, so I don't eat a lot of red meat or potatoes. Little Brother is allergic to wheat/dairy/eggs/peanuts/soy, so most of my grains, out of necessity, are gluten free. We no longer keep much dairy in the house using either rice milk or almond milk. But, I have a husband whose doctor encouraged a Paleo-style diet, so those of use who aren't allergic DO eat eggs. So, while my food diary looks like a weird mish-mash of Top Ten Diets, it is comprised (mostly) of whole, real foods.

After being on the diet plan 10 years ago and eating a whole host of unwholesome, chemically altered, preservative laden, science experiments, I can't stomach buying "diet" food again.When I touch a fat free cookie on my tongue, it tastes like grainy chemicals. Nasty. So, if it isn't real, I am probably not eating it (again, mostly...everybody needs some cheez-its every now and then). That's not dieting, that's mindful eating.

So what's the end game? Well, I tell you what it ain't. I have no intention of making a weight loss goal. I have never been thin and I will never be thin. That's not fatalistic thinking, it just IS. Even after my big weight loss I was a plus sized woman. I have a big skeleton (yup, I just played the big boned card) and am not built to be slender. I have the bones of a strong, sturdy woman. I don't care about getting "down" to a certain size.

I just want to see the scale move down. I want to stop eating when my stomach is full, even if there is still food on the plate. I want to be able to move my body in the way I wish. I want to feel comfortable and sensible. That's it. There are no numbers. I AM NOT ON A DIET!

PS...I really like that article on diets that I linked to in this post. I particularly like what it says about trauma and adverse childhood experiences. I wrote a post about it in 2013 (here). I think that weight is a complicated matter and simple calories in calories out glosses over the root causes of overeating.

You Say You Want A Resolution 2015

Wow, 2015 begins next week. That year seems very futuristic to me...like the setting for a sci-fi novel. More than that, I can hardly believe how quickly time has passed. Do you realize that the whole End of the World in 2012 thing was TWO WHOLE years ago? That's crazy. It seems like we JUST did that. I honestly believe that time has started moving faster...a year just isn't what it used to be.

So here we are at the end of 2014 and looking ahead to 2015. That means it's resolution time! Most Americans are all about New Year's Resolutions...until the 2nd week of January! In order to combat that short lived enthusiasm, I decided last year to choose some kind of large, overarching goals and make small choices in order to begin meeting those goals.  I think it's healthy to set goals and I also think it's healthy to allow our goals to be flexible. As I use my blog to gaze into the New Year, I will begin this post by reviewing how I did with my 2014 Resolutions.

First I resolved to do what I want to do instead of caving to unhelpful societal, cultural, and familial norms. I'd say I did OK with that, though it's kind of a hard goal to measure. I did find myself saying "no" more often and I think that's a good thing. Instead of finding things to fill my calendar, I spent more time at home and in my yoga pants. Overall, that made for a pretty chill year, which I desperately needed.

Secondly, I resolved to let my children sort out their own differences without intervening every time. Meh, that one was trickier. Little Brother is a giant crybaby/tattle tale/tantrum thrower. He's generally difficult to ignore when he is in conflict. We are trying to teach him about emotional regulation, but we still have a lot of work to do. Additionally, Big Brother thinks it's HILARIOUS to get his brother all worked up...so, there's that.

Lastly, I resolved to take myself less seriously. Again, this goal is kind of challenging to measure, but I'd say there has been some progress here. Actually, I like this concept so much I am going to add it to my 2015 Resolutions. Learning to be more forgiving of myself and more accepting of my humanity is likely going to take my entire lifetime...I'm choosing to be OK with that.

So, last year there was some improvement in my life. Not a crazy life changing moment, rather a small series of choices that made my life more enjoyable.

And now ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my 2015 New Year's Resolutions!

1. I again resolve to take myself less seriously. Primarily, I am going to look for more opportunities to laugh and play. Laughter and play are medically proven to relieve stress. Frankly, I am just weary of being so damn serious all the time. I've been on the serious side since I was a kid...I'm over it. Yes, it's important to be responsible and know when to take care of business. I know that I am capable of doing that and now I desire to ENJOY my life as well.

2. I resolve to regularly add yoga into my daily routine. Yes, this is an exercise resolution. Most medical and natural health experts are in agreement that practicing yoga is good for people who have my particular mix of depression and anxiety (plus I have jacked up hips from birthing enormous babies and yoga is a good way to help with that). I feel SOOOO good when I am practicing yoga...I just have to make a concerted effort to add it into my life on a regular basis. Last summer I set up a little studio in my attic and practiced a mere handful of times.

I found some articles about sticking to a new exercise routine and found one that suggested that exercise can more easily become a habit if you commit to doing no MORE than 30 minutes per day. As an "all or nothing" person, this mindset works for me. Rather than going all in and trying to be the best yogi I can be, I can just do a small amount every day.

So, that's it. There is not a #3...I was going to make three because that seems like a good number...then I decided...I don't wanna.

Happy New Year everyone!!!

Tis the Season to be Anxious: 2014 Update

Almost exactly a year ago, I posted this blog (Tis The Season To Be Anxious) about my anxiety. Basically it outlines the cyclical nature of my mental health. In the Fall, my brain flips a switch and I go from depressive tendencies to obsessive anxiety. What makes me a little sad is that, really, I could write that blog post again verbatim and it would still be true. In 2014, I am still hard core struggling to stay calm and rational. The plan that I enacted last year is still probably the best plan for me to follow as the holidays approach (limit caffeine and sugar, limiting commitments, taking a more laid back approach to gifts, and consciously avoiding rumination).

In April 2013, I wrote a post called Getting On The Same Page: Depression, in which I broke down the definition of depression. That post was written to dispel the myth that depression is just feeling sad. Today, I am going to do that with anxiety. A lot of people claim to have issues with anxiety, but I think some clarification is in order. Just as depression isn't just feeling down, anxiety isn't just feeling worried. Rather, anxiety is a whole situation of symptoms that can be crippling.

Webster defines anxiety thusly:

1 a : painful or apprehensive uneasiness of mind usually over an impending or anticipated ill

b :  fearful concern or interest

c :  a cause of anxiety

    2

:  an abnormal and overwhelming sense of apprehension and fear often marked by physiological signs (as sweating, tension, and increased pulse), by doubt concerning the reality and nature of the threat, and by self-doubt about one's capacity to cope with it

Here is how that definition plays out in my life:

painful or apprehensive uneasiness of mind- In my case, I would describe this as constantly being in "fight or flight". My mind is running through a myriad of potential crises and trying to figure out all of the possible outcomes. But, my mind rarely settles on positive outcomes. With my brain running worst case scenarios for dozens of different situations, I am not participating in the here and now. I get agitated and irritable because I am too busy worrying about the future, that I can't be bothered with the real situations that I am facing each day. 

fearful concern or interest- This piece often plays out as fear of losing my children. Since that is the worst thing I could possibly think of, my brain goes into hypervigilance mode. If my kids are away from me, I worry that they are not safe...this is especially true if they are doing something out of routine. So, in the winter, I don't even enjoy my kid-free time. I spend the entire time riddled with anxiety. 

I also have fearful concern whenever I have social interactions, I worry that I have said or done something stupid. I replay my words and their words over and over again picking the conversation apart until I find the offending phrases. Sometimes I just avoid being around people because I can't handle the stress of the aftermath.

Another arena of life where this pops up is finances. For me, spending during the holidays feel out of control. It isn't usually. I am generally wise with our money...but that feeling that I am buying things I don't need kicks me into a bout of anxiety. What if...What if...What if. 

an abnormal and overwhelming sense of apprehension and fear- ABNORMAL. OVERWHELMING. It's normal to be concerned about the safety of my children. It is abnormal to preemptively obsess and emotionally punish myself on the off chance that something bad happens to them. It is normal for me to desire to make a good impression with people. It is abnormal for me to dig and dig until I find a reason to be ashamed of myself. It is normal for me to desire to stay within my budget. It is abnormal to be completely overwhelmed with guilt that my moderate overspending will lead to financial hardship so severe that we will lose our house. 

physiological signs- Here is where anxiety, quite literally, kicks my ass. My symptoms include heart palpitations when I lay down, digestive issues, shortness of breath, holding my breath, hyperventilating, extreme muscle tension and tightness in my neck, shoulders, and chest, and a weird heavy, pinching pain behind my right knee.  I have trouble swallowing and get strange pains in my lymph nodes. Even when I sleep I bite the edges of my tongue so that the perimeter of my tongue is permanently pressed into the shape of my teeth. Regular, run of the mill worry does NOT look like this. If I hadn't been experiencing these symptoms for nearly a decade, I'd worry that I had a serious health problem. (Of course I HAVE worried that I have a serious health problem...but, I've been thoroughly checked...I'm fine.)

doubt concerning the reality and nature of the threat- I feel like this is a weird sentence. My best stab at interpreting this is to say that most of the things that cause my anxiety are figments of my imagination...they are not real. The scenarios I dream up rarely come to fruition. Anxiety constructs a bleak, dismal future that is only marginally rooted in reality. The threat is fictitious.  

self doubt about one's capacity to cope- What will I do? What will I say? How can I survive it? What if it kills me? What if I fail and bring harm, shame, or hardship to those around me? These questions, my friend, are at the core of my anxiety. Without these obsessive thoughts and fears about my ability to cope, it would be easy to dismiss some of my wild plot lines. If I could be outside looking into my mind, I would realize I am just creating my own drama. I know, in my soul, that I can bear up under a great many trials. My brain lies to me and makes me doubt my own strength. It sucks away any confidence I have. 

Anxiety is not just niggling worry or butterflies in my tummy. In my life, anxiety is a soul sucking, joy stealing, laughter robbing obsession. So, this is life for me from October to February. It is always there, but anxiety really gets it's turn in the spotlight at this time of year. All I can do is keep working the plan..and pray. 

Thankful

Well, hello friends!

It's been a little over a month since I took an intentional break from blogging. In general my mental health has been kind of up and down. The truth is, life is designed to be fraught with ups and downs. This truth is, as a recovering perfectionist, still hard to accept. That's why I wanted to write today to share with you a sweet revelation that came into my mind twice last month....because it's the sweet things that give us comfort and courage when we are not at our best.

Last month one of my best friends got married and I was in the bridal party. During the ceremony I was up on the stage. My body was turned in such a way as to both see the bride and groom and to look out into the congregation. On my left, the bride was lovely and elegant. She and her groom listened intently as the pastor officiated their ceremony.

I heard the pastor's words, which were full of life and hope...commitment and love. My heart welled up with love and gratitude because, while he was imparting his words to the bride and groom, I was stealing looks at my little family. As I glanced off to my right, I saw, seated on a pew, my husband and two sons. They were dressed up for the occasion and looked so handsome.

In those moments I felt so fortunate to have a kind and good husband. He looked so strong and capable next to my two small sons. The boys were sitting quietly watching the wedding. Their little faces were peaceful and sweet...and I thanked God as many times as I could that it was my honor to be the wife of that man and the mother to those sons. My heart continued to be happy even when the boys lost interest and began wrestling on the floor on the side aisle.

I had cause to be filled with gratitude again when we recently ventured out of town for a quick weekend trip. My sons were all buckled into their car seats, ready for the drive and I mused to myself  about how big they had gotten. Then a thought came upon me...this was one of the first times I looked at my sons and didn't wish they were older. I loved them, right then and there, just for being what they were. Through the rest of the weekend I was overwhelmed with tenderness for my boys.

My intention for sharing this today is not to boast because God knows these glowing moments of love were just punctuations to long, gritty, mundane days. Rather, I write today to celebrate that an imperfect woman can, every so often, be overcome with breathtaking love for her man and their two little boys. It's beautiful and I am thankful.