Select Page

The Rest Of My Life

by | Jul 29, 2013 | Childhood Bullying, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Rape/Sexual Assault, Teen Bullying, Teen Heartbreak, Teen Rape, Teen Sexuality | 0 comments

Anyone who claims the teen years are the “best of your life” is lying.

This is his struggle:

I was born in 1998, and until fourth grade, I was the big kid everyone knew and liked; I was popular and well-respected. No one bullied me. That all changed in fifth grade when I moved to Arlington, WA and started over at a new school.

My first – and worst – mistake was mistaking a jackwagon of a “friend” (who’s not much of one now) for a girl I liked.

You see where this is going – I was called “gay” and “bisexual” until the end of seventh grade when people forgot about it.

In the summer before eighth grade, I had my first real girlfriend. Over that summer, she sexually abused me, and I was traumatized.

After I ended it with her, I was scared of girls, until I met my previous girlfriend whom I dated for seven months. She was too scared to tell me when I was doing something that made her uncomfortable, so she left me. She broke my heart when she told that I made her feel like a “slut.”

It killed me to hear that.

After that, I screwed up, continued texting her, tried to be around her. That was a colossally bad idea. Things got so much worse.

People who’d been my friends turned on me because I’d hurt her, even though I wasn’t aware I’d been hurting her. Only few people tried to comfort me, trying to help my broken heart.

One day after a long track practice, I was finally getting over her, and a few buddies were fooling around, relaxing and telling stories. We were chatting about cars, girls, and fishing and I brought up some stupid (yet true) things about my ex-girlfriend. One of those guys told her.

After a month, I texted her, asking who’d told her what I’d said. She confirmed it was one of the guys from my track team. I lost control and punched him in the mouth – not because he’d told her, but because he’d lied to me; telling me he hadn’t told her.

Her parents showed up at a fourth of July parade and stopped to pet my dog. I looked in her Mom’s eyes and shook her Dad’s hand. My ex hid her face behind her hair.

I learned that her new boyfriend is one of my most trusted (well, WAS trusted) and close friends. I have ADD, an unusual form of OCD, which means that it’s far harder for me to get over things. Something a normal person forgets about in, say a week, takes me months. Since what I’m trying to get over is heartbreak, it takes more than months to work through.

I was sentenced to eight hours of community service for juvenile assault. I’m finding ways to express myself – music, friends, and cars.

I’m now helping a friend who was sexually abused get back on her feet, and spending more time with my girlfriend. Wish me (and my friend) luck, The Band!

Thanks for reading, The Band.

Do you have any advice for me?

But You Can Have Another Baby: What To Say and What NOT To Say To A Grieving Parent

by | Oct 8, 2011 | Anniversary Reactions, Baby Loss, Child Loss, Coping With Baby Loss, Coping With Losing A Child, Grief, Help For Grief And Grieving, Loss, Loved and Lost | 3 comments

Maybe you will read this and nod along thinking to yourself, “ugh, why do people say stupid stuff” or you have a friend or coworker that needs comforting and you don’t know what to say. Here are some tips on what to say and what NOT to say to bereaved parents.

WHAT NOT TO SAY:

“It’s so much better that it was so early or he was so young, or she didn’t have to suffer.”

No parents should bury their child. No matter HOW old or young they are. It’s just the wrong order of events.

“You’re young and have time to have other children.”

You don’t know how long we’ve been trying to have THIS child. You don’t know that I haven’t had a hysterectomy because of some terrible disease. You don’t know any details that would lead you to think this statement would be true.

“I know how you feel, my dog died last week.”

This was actually said to me at Charlie’s visitation. Kid you not. Enough said.

“Please call me if there’s anything we can do for you.”

This is a really sweet sentiment. But we don’t know what we need right now. I’m sure we need our grass cut, some meals, somebody to babysit our other children, or any number of other things-be creative. But we don’t have any clue what day it is or even how to put one foot in front of another. So we sure as heck don’t know what our to-do list looks like.

“Things happen for a reason.”

This is probably THE most insensitive thing anyone can say. Though this is true, that there is some “order of events” that our lives take and things happen in the order they are supposed to. BUT this is not a comforting statement and one that most people who are grieving a loss of a child, a diagnosis of a severe or chronic illness, a major accident or surgery that is life-changing, find offensive. If you take nothing else from this, DO NOT SAY THIS STATEMENT TO ANYONE. EVER. Thanks.

So, CharliesMom, what CAN I say to someone?

People get really funny around situations they are uncomfortable with. They panic when they don’t know what to say. They freeze and THAT is when stupid stuff is said.

Here are the basic rules:

1. Acknowledging the situation is better than saying nothing.

2. Saying nothing is better than saying something stupid.

3. Giving a hug and saying “I just don’t have the words to tell you how sorry I am” is better than saying nothing OR saying something stupid.

Other ways to offer comfort:

Send a card with a gift card to a local restaurant. It’s not flowers that die and it will get them out of the house which is normally needed.

Call and tell them you are going to be mowing their grass, shoveling their snow, pulling their weeds (or whatever fits) on Saturday.

Remember that food, flowers and help flows in for about two weeks. Then it’s like the rest of the world picks up and moves on quickly without the grieving people. The rest of the world doesn’t remember, or care that they lost their child or their child is sick.  About a month later, or two months later, offer to help or to bring a meal or to take the mom out for a pedicure.

Acknowledge the child in the future. I cannot tell you how much I love this one lady. To this day, and it’s been seven years, when she sees my son Henry, she calls him Charlie. Every. Single. Time. She blushes and gets embarrassed until I tell her that it’s flattering to me that she remembers my baby that she actually never met. People like to hear their child’s name. And they like to know you remember and think of them.

Continue reaching out. If you are really close with the bereaved person, call regularly. I know I never returned calls, turned down lunch dates, didn’t want to go to parties but I had friends who were persistent and at a certain point, I was ready. And I said yes. Don’t give up on the person. They are hurting and are scared to have to leave their comfort zone.

JUST BE THERE. And don’t freak out when we start talking about our situation. If it freaks you out, you just need to listen and offer hugs and support. If you are a good friend, it shouldn’t make you uncomfortable, though.

Seven years down the road, the letters you sent, the meals you brought, the ear you lent, the shoulder you offered, the memories you helped us keep will be remembered.

And the insensitive stuff other people said will still sting when you think back on them

Why I Hate The Holidays

by | Dec 7, 2010 | Child Loss, Coping With Losing A Child, Grief, Help For Grief And Grieving, Loss, Sadness, Stress, Sudden Unexplained Death in Childhood, Trauma | 3 comments

Holidays have not been easy for me for a long time due to family issues between my wife and my parents.  That was unpleasant but tolerable. Details of that are completely different story.

Bringing our first and only child into the world helped.  I could now find joy in watching him open his gifts on Christmas morning, seeing the same joy in his eyes that I felt as a kid during the holiday season.

We had the same ritual for 4 years – stress over the holidays, money, buying gifts and so on. But it was all worth it to watch Kaden open his gifts and enjoy Christmas.

This year the holidays have gone back to “full suck mode.”  You see, our beloved only child of almost 5 years old passed away in January 2010 of unknown causes.  Doctors are unable to explain exactly why the life of our child was taken from us so suddenly.

I never thought anything could change your life more than bringing a child into the world.  I now know that losing that child changes your life even more.  Life continues on around you but somehow you are unable to keep up.  The same problems, and struggles you had before are now magnified by the constant pain, sorrow and discomfort in your heart.

Going through our first holiday season without Kaden is really taking its toll on us as well as our entire family.  Some people understand why we don’t want to leave the house to visit friends and family and gather for holidays just like we used to, but it seems that some are just flat out offended and hurt that you decide you are not emotionally capable of attending family holiday celebrations.

I hope that some day the pain will weaken enough to allow a somewhat normal lifestyle but for now, we are broken.

Miscarriage and Triggers: When Your Body Is The Trigger

by | Dec 6, 2010 | Grief, Happiness, Help For Grief And Grieving, Livng Through A Miscarriage, Loss, Miscarriage, Pain And Pain Disorders, Sadness | 4 comments

Grief is a very strange journey and process.  Some days I find myself in the best mood – happy and cheerful and then without warning can be smacked in the face with sadness and tears. Sometimes it happens without warning and one thing I have learned through these 10 miscarriages is that is okay. It is normal and it is okay.

There are times where a certain trigger will bring out the grief and I have been spending some time identifying those and learning to be okay with the emotions that come up.  Television has been a big trigger, so has Twitter and Facebook and mostly a specific time of year or date.  Those last ones I can brace for {as much as anyone can} or avoid Twitter or Facebook for some time if I feel like I just don’t want to face it for the moment.  My husband will brace me for television or movies that might have some sensitive material in it for me and will be there if it gets to me.  Those I can all ‘deal’ with. They make sense and can be avoided.

One trigger I am having some trouble coming to terms with – or figuring out just how to deal with – are triggers that are from within my body – normal body functions.

Miscarriages are painful.  PHYSICALLY PAINFUL.  Cramping and bleeding can be intense and one of my biggest lingering triggers is normal menstrual cramping and bleeding.  Kind of a double hit because women can be more emotional during their period and compound that with an emotional trigger response it can be very difficult. Very.

It can sort of throw me back. It triggers me to re-live those days where i was fighting emotional and physical anguish.  It leaves me confused. Confused because I can’t avoid it.  I am almost certain that the emotions that play into it make the cramps that much worse which is then a cycle that I just can’t seem to avoid.

It has slowed down a bit now because I am on birth control that stops monthly periods but the cramps still come and go and each time I can be caught off guard and will find myself back there.

It is hard. very hard. I am learning that it is okay to feel it. I am learning to sit in the grief because running away from it will not make it disappear.  It will be okay.

{right?}

Like Sands Through The Hourglass

by | Dec 1, 2010 | Bipolar Disorder, Coping With Depression, Major Depressive Disorder, Postpartum Depression | 1 comment

I had tried to deny it throughout the months of November and December but it is now clear that I am once again going through another one of my depressive episodes. Honestly, I kind of expected it. These episodes have been happening since I was 15-years-old and even though some people in my life don’t fully understand why, they will continue to creep up and knock me (and any confidence I have) on my ass.

That’s just how it goes when you’re dealing with bipolar II disorder. It can be controlled but there is no cure. This is something I will have to manage for the rest of my life, like millions of others in this world. That thought both frustrates and saddens me. Frustrates me because oftentimes, especially during these episodes, I feel like a victim. Why did God choose this path for me? Saddens me because I just want to be a happy positive person but my brain chemicals won’t let me be who I want to be!

Since I can’t take medication right now I was holding out hope that my pregnancy hormones would ward off depression just as they did when I was pregnant with Landon. No such luck. But I am thankful that I have been through enough of these episodes to know the difference between a bad day and full-on depression. I am thankful that I have done enough therapy and research to recognize when getting better is beyond my reach.

I have all the classic symptoms, i.e. random spurts of crying, sudden internalized anger, unable to muster up enough energy to perform basic life skills (taking a shower, doing the laundry or dishes), loss of concentration, no desire to talk to or be around family members or friends. Basically feeling so overwhelmed with the thought of doing anything that I just plain can’t pull myself out of bed. Is that what you would consider a bad day? What if you felt like this for a week or an entire month?

I just want to note for any worry warts out there that I DO get out of bed. I DO take care of my son. I feed him, play with him, change his 12 diapers a day and hug and kiss him all day long. I’ll admit that sometimes I have to force myself to do it. But he is my greatest motivator. Sometimes I will roll out of bed at 5:30 a.m. even though I don’t want to because he is up and jibber-jabbering. I will walk into his room and see that huge grin on his face and suddenly I realize I’m actually smiling! Oops, wait, stop smiling Molly because you’re supposed to be depressed! I will sing our usual morning songs while changing him and getting him his milk. It’s nice to know that even though I am having a really rough time right now there is still sunlight in the shadows of this disorder.

One positive about having had this disorder for all of my adult-life is that I am armed with the perspective that I CAN and WILL get better. That’s why they are called “episodes.” I’m convinced that much of why I feel the way I do is circumstantial. Unexpectedly leaving my job (and my nice salary), rarely seeing Naaman because he has to work so much, trying to sell our house in a down market, and how about we throw an unexpected pregnancy in there? I am happy to have this surprise blessing in our lives and I feel certain this baby is here for a reason. But I am still pretty upset about the timing of it all. All of these circumstances at once could drive anyone to their breaking point. But someone like me who doesn’t come wired with the usual coping skills? It’s a recipe for disaster.

Blogging about my struggles and strengths with this disorder is something I think I need to do more of this year. Maybe it will help someone else out there to know that they are not alone. That you can manage motherhood AND mental illness successfully. I do realize that writing about this on my blog subjects me to the awful and unfair judgment of strangers. There are still so many in this world who don’t understand mental illness. They never will. They see it as a weakness or a fault. They see me as someone who doesn’t deserve a loving husband or a beautiful family. They assume that if I can’t be happy then I don’t deserve what I have. But they’re wrong. Just because I suffer from depressive episodes through no fault of my own does not mean that I don’t have the same right to happiness that everyone else does.

I desperately wanted to reach the same milestones as most everyone else. High school and college graduation, successful career, engagement, marriage, babies. I am still a human being with feelings and a heart and I am convinced that I deserve the same happiness as everyone else.

One misconception is that I can turn the depression switch on and off. That I can “snap out of it” or “get over it.” Oh, if it were only that easy. I do not choose to feel this way. I was born this way and had some horrible things happen to me when I was a teenager that exacerbated my symptoms. Do you think I don’t try to wish these feelings away every day? I would give anything if I could just snap my fingers and feel happy. I know what it is to be and feel truly happy. And I want those feelings back as soon as possible. But I’m smart enough to know that this won’t just disappear into the background. Not without regular therapy and medication. I suffered through many years of agony and the darkest pain before I was able to come to this realization. But now I can get help before I reach my lowest of lows.

It’s a New Year. 2010. There is so much to look forward to this year. A new little miracle will enter my life and I want so much to be ready to welcome him into the arms of a happy, more centered mama. I want to feel the unspeakable joy that I felt the day we brought Landon home. I don’t think I’ve ever smiled a bigger smile in my life than on the day when we came home and put him in his crib for the first time. I want that with B and I’m trying to remain hopeful that I’ll get that chance.

But right now it’s oh so tough. I am once again feeling resentful of tragic things that have transpired in my life. So much so, that I start to forget that my entire life sets within an hourglass. I have no way of knowing how much sand is left. All I want is to be grateful for every particle that falls to the other end because that means that God has given me another day. Not the ones that are still waiting to go through. Not the ones that have already fallen. I want to be grateful for the sands that are falling through the hourglass right now.

My next OB appointment is Tuesday. She knows all about my history with this disorder and is ready and willing to talk about treatment while I’m still pregnant. I will let you all know how it goes. I am hopeful that there is a solution for me so that I can get better. I am smart enough to know that I have to act now. I cannot wait until after B arrives. Thoughts and prayers are always welcome. Every good vibe sent my way helps a bit.

At the recommendation of my OB who was extremely supportive of antenatal depression I took a small dose of antidepressants and received weekly talk therapy. Brigham (Baby B) was born on May 2, 2010 to a happy, stable mama. Please talk to your OB. At the time of my pregnancy I thought there was no way I would ever be happy.

Antenatal depression exists.

Just know, you’re not alone in this struggle.