Posted in Poetry

Trust

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“Trust.”
©2016 LC

Trust can go both ways–
stretching like an elastic
band. Until it SNAPS
between the fingertips of
one person trying to hold
on too tight. Alone.

Photo Credit– Woman’s Day

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Posted in Poetry

Standing Tall

Standing Tall.
©LC 2016

Every day is a struggle,
internally– it is a fight.
Just to appear “normal,”
It is exhausting– trying to be alright.

Palpitations arise in my chest,
I debate over the mask I will wear–
To be the person they want me to be.
Palms sweaty. I try not to care.

Worry consumes my every thought.
If only things would work out alright.
I cloak myself in the dignity I have left.
Maybe I will sleep tonight.

My stomach nerves are a ball of fire
in public places, I try to contain.
I do my best with relationships–
though they can be difficult to maintain.

I often feel out-of-place–
the words won’t come-I’m being judged.
And though I know I may not belong,
I know I did nothing wrong.

Anxiety is a part of me.
A common issue in society.

Awareness should be raised for all.
Acceptance and understanding helps us Stand TALL.

** I hope this encourages someone else to talk about their battles with anxiety, depression, or other mental illnesses!

Anxiety is something I’ve struggled with for years. It can be hard to talk about a sensitive issue.

If enough awareness is raised on these illnesses, they won’t be perceived in such a negative manner.

Do you struggle with anxiety, depression, or another disorder?

Lynne

 

Posted in Poetry

The Path of A Warrior

The Path of A Warrior.
©LC 2016

Overcomers are
born.Rising from the depths of
hell to breathe, again.
Living life differently.
Seeing possibilities.

A warrior, someone who battles no matter what task is ahead, someone who not only regains strength from his weaknesses but also sees life in a way no others can.
Posted in Blogging, Writing

Day EIGHT- Writing Challenge

Day Eight- Something I Struggle With

Anxiety is like a heavy blanket in my chest. A thick fog making it hard to think. An intense feeling of worry making my heart do flip-flops in my chest. Making it hard to breathe. The dread makes my heart pound angrily. Like it is jumping rope in there. Skipping along. Not caring if it scares the life out of me.

In these moments, I can’t be still. I am nervous. Anxious. I try to walk it off. If my legs will let me. Sometimes they feel like bowls of jelly.

I look for something I can see, something I can touch, something I can smell, and I count. I drink water. If I am at home, I try not to let my family see signs of smoke. I try to put out the fire myself.

On occasion, my arm is numb. Please not the left arm! Not the heart-attack arm! I am not having a heart attack! I am too young to die!

If my right arm is numb and tingly, I know I am going to live. I wiggle around like a worm. I pray to the God who hears me. I know I am going to live. I am strong and too stubborn to die.

If I know I have to be somewhere, I get nauseated thinking about it. I think about being around people, and it is a heavy weight pulling me down.

Talking to people. What will I say? What if they don’t like me? It might affect how they treat my children. My mind is like a blank sheet of paper trying to find the right words.

One of my issues lies within wanting to please everyone. My mother, my husband, my children, my family. If they are happy, then I can be happy.

When they are happy, my heart sings. When there is discord, my spirit is crushed. I hate chaos it makes me anxious. I feel like a caged bird flapping its wings unable to move about. 

Another issue is social anxiety. For example: When I help at my daughter’s school, I feel the way I described when getting ready in the morning.

When I arrive, I have a headache that feels like it is trying to rip through the back of my head. (Though not anymore because of Daith Piercing.) I walk apart from everyone to take in a few breaths of air. The children do not scare me, ironically, it is the adults that intimidate me.

I put on a show and try not to stand out. Hiding behind this facade of confidence. Outside– I am Fort Knox. Inside– my stomach is a ball of knots. When it is over, I can’t wait to high-tail it out of there.

I don’t mind helping out. I love seeing my daughter. It feels good volunteering. The anxiety is my problem, and I am working on it.

In some ways, I feel so out-of-place when I go. Like Alice who was so very lost in Wonderland. But I suppose that is one way the anxiety gets “inside of my head.”

More than anything it’s the worry. The worry is the disease in itself. The underlying cause of anxiety. The infectious bug.

The thoughts seeping into my brain, “Am I good enough.. Wife, mom, daughter, friend, ____”

The obsessive thoughts. Feeling as though I have to protect my children.

“Will something bad happen in our neighborhood? Are they alright at school? Are they being bullied? Do I need to do anything to help them? What could I do to make them smile?”

As I lay in bed, I think, “Is my family going to be alright?”

My body is restless. My muscles are tense. Counting sheep doesn’t help when the corral is left open. 

My thoughts wonder, and it isn’t a good thing. 

Though my eyes feel like heavy bricks when I close them, no sleep comes.  I chase sleep, and it eludes me.

This is what it feels like to struggle with anxiety. Anxiety is an invisible monster. It pulls on your insides like a puppet on a string. Makes you feel things you wouldn’t otherwise.

You want to feel normal. Do normal things, but you can’t.

We deal with stress badly, and we feel more deeply. Our bodies react as if these two things were contagious to our systems. So to purge us from these things, we have an attack.

You wouldn’t know someone has it unless they tell you. People assume we can turn it off like a light switch. Or calm down at the drop of a hat.

If it was that easy and we had it all figured out, we would have been free from anxiety long ago.

If you ever discover a person is struggling with anxiety, please do not judge them for it.

Instead empathy and understanding are helpful. We don’t want your pity. We are fighting a battle that one day we will win!

It isn’t easy talking about your struggles, but I hope this post encourages someone to open up about something they may be struggling with.

Hope everyone has a lovely weekend!

Lynne

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Posted in General

Storm Season.

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Life is a struggle lately. No reprieve for me. No secret mom-cave though that would be AWESOME. Alas, I’m present in reality watching all the punches continue to land. Dodging what I can. Waiting for whatever storm this is to pass. Hoping and praying it all works out as it should.

However that is supposed to be.

I wish storms left tons of rainbows along the way with pots of whatever you needed at the end. Like a treasure hunt. Then, it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe praying gives you clues, and solutions will pop into your head later. Hmmm.

Things are tense. I know when things are tense I am supposed to pray and trust God (working on it) because things are happening behind the scenes I cannot see. But I am to my point, I have had it up to here *points with hand above head*.

I am stressed to the max. That storm people talk about passing is hovering. Like a massive hurricane instead of a thunderstorm.

They talk about when the storm passes you won’t be the same person walking out because you change. You grow strong. Brave.

I’ve manged these storms. Some easier than others. But this one just isn’t going anywhere. So I guess I’m left wondering when this shit-storm will be over. I am considering some strategies to help.

Contributors to my storm: my mother, my husband, and my son. I feel like Dorothy struggling to find her footing in Oz. 

I feel like I am torn between my mother and my husband. I talk to both of them about the other. I have to vent. But I have to stop that. I see it isn’t good. It creates chaos. Chaos I don’t need.

I talk to my mother about my husband because my best friend is gone. Who else am I supposed to vent to? My mother is my best friend and a good listener. Often, she gives good advice. I believe her age gives her a degree of wisdom I don’t have.

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My husband is my also my best friend that is why I married him! He makes me laugh and he cheers me up when I am sad. I talk to my husband about my mother because sometimes she can grate my nerves. I love my mother, dearly, I owe everything to her. She is loving, helpful, and I would do anything for her. She is wonderful.

“If momma ain’t happy ain’t nobody happy,” has some degree of truth. She misses my father, who passed in 1992, and she is lonely. Her living situation often makes her miserable, and when she needs help over there no one assists her.

She loves to talk on the phone. I don’t. I wish we could talk without hearing about everyone else’s business, and constant reminders of appointments and things. I admit I am absentminded so I appreciate a reminder, but after the first time it is not a reminder it is nagging. 

I don’t mind talking on the phone if we have things to talk about. Keeping me on the phone when I don’t want to be on the phone stinks. I wonder if all moms are like that? I could ditch my phone, and it wouldn’t bother me.

I guess that is me though. I could live out in the middle of nowhere with a cellphone for emergencies, and it wouldn’t inconvenience me. As long as we have groceries, we are good.

I would never move away from my mother despite my dreams of a nice cabin in the woods. Far, far away. I don’t think my husband would go for it either. However, it is a nice dream.

I know why my mother acts the way she how does. She wants to be needed, and feel important. Useful. She is getting older now. I feel like I am always making her mad. Like I can’t do anything right. I know it’s mutual. She gets impatient when I don’t do everything right now. But I love her the same as I did when I was younger, she is still my mother.

Even though she thinks my husband isn’t good enough for me. Or my son. Especially my son. My husband adopted him and has been around since he was four. I believe she feels she has to keep an eye on him since my grandma is not here to do it.

Only grandma liked my husband… She was protective of my son because of his biological father, and had no reason to dislike my husband. Between the two of us he was the only one to make out her speech after she had her stroke. She appreciated him talking to her. She was often frustrated trying to talk. I would give anything to hear her speak, again.

She would tell my mom how it is. She did that sometimes. Only to apologize later. She hated having hurt feelings. It was funny watching the two of them argue. My grandmother made the funniest faces. That is probably how the two of us look now!

The thing is she isn’t here to witness the love. My son and I may complain on occasion, but what family doesn’t have their share of disagreements? It doesn’t mean they don’t love each other. It is annoying when your mother is asking your son if he is being mistreated.

No, he is fine. If he was being mistreated, we wouldn’t be living here! What teenager doesn’t hate being grounded, doing chores, and hates his or her parents at times. That sounds normal to me.

If my son was being abused or mistreated, or if any of us were, the cops would be called. What the heck is she thinking! I have already been divorced once! Does she not think I am capable of doing it again!

As for my son’s problem-o, it all boils down to a girl! His whole “emo-routine” was because he had his heart stomped on by the first girl he held hands with. So that is why his work was not getting done in school, why his grades have went down the drain and he probably won’t make the honor roll, and why his attitude is so shitty.

We had a big talk about girls. I know I am a girl, but I hate girls right now. Teenage girls. Or maybe just the teenage years in general. This is harder than I remember. It makes me want to sit in my room, and listen to music. Do the whole “emo-thing.” My kid is too young for this sappy love stuff. Fourteen is too young. 

He is pretty confused. She became jealous because he was talking to another girl trying to help her with school. I told him how stupid that sounded. Now she is dating his best friend, however, she keeps giving him “the look,” and he doesn’t know what this “look” means.

He says, “I don’t know what to make out of this look. It is just so sad, and confusing. She just keeps looking up at me with those eyes.”

(I wish I could tell her to keep her eyes to herself, and pointed in another direction. My kid has some intense feelings caused by hand holding and a heart-shaped note that says, “I love you to the moon and back.” The confusion ends here.)

Of course, I want to barf. So I mentally barf when he says that. I tell him, “You don’t really know what love is yet. Right now, your feelings are all over the place and it gets confusing. Just wait a couple of years. Things will be a little less confusing then.”

This girl has been nothing but trouble. I am glad he isn’t “dating” her anymore. I wish he would show more interest in his friend who is like the “girl version” of him. Unfortunately, he hasn’t realized what a gem she is– yet.

One of these days maybe he will. When neither of them have a date to prom and they decide to beat the system and go together as “friends.” Maybe they will have a great time instead of being wallflowers, and dance.

For now, he has decided to focus on school. Which is a wise choice. He may have two C’s on his report card, which is unlike him. The depression he deals with by isolating and gaming is being handled. We are starting counseling, and it has been addressed by his doctor. He will play video games less, and engage more with family.

His problem is he doesn’t talk to us. Then, he blows up. Plays the blame game. It’s everyone’s fault but mine. I know it’s a teenager thing. Just wish they weren’t so hard on him and everyone living here when we incur his wrath.

The teen years– will anyone survive!? 

I think I have it handled. I have a strategy for this storm. I think I need to set some boundaries in my life without feeling guilty. It will help with feeling less stressed, and I will be writing more.

I have a feeling this storm will be on the way out soon!