Her real home.

If you’ve read any of my previous blog posts or follow me on Instagram then you know about my battle with ptsd, depression and anxieties. Such a dark time with night terrors, flashbacks, depression that left me in bed most days unable to care for myself or my family, suicidal ideations, weight loss and a pillow filled with tears. Yet still, I cannot deny that it has also brought so much good.

During the manic episode my love for nature was remembered. My real home here on earth. Where I lose my fears, anxieties, sadness, grief and instead I see how small my problems are and how big God is. How beautiful and intentional he created nature to be for us. How incredibly restorative it is to pause on the responsibilities of this life and lose yourself in his creation.

To reacquaint yourself with the unpaved paths, the scent of floral trees picked up by the air that surrounds your body and fills your breath. To hear their whisper as they brush against each other to welcome you home. Where conversation has depth but words are never spoken. Where you’re dreaming vividly, with your eyes open. To place your hand in a stream with a current and feel it dance and curl between your fingers.

I am homesick when I am away, can you understand why?

I know what it means to be so devoid of life that you beg and plead with God to take it. I don’t have instructions for a way out, everyone’s journey is different. Though two journeys can have commonalities they can never be the same. Faithfully love those with souls that are at war and you will discover that it is everyone you can love.

Our loved ones see our mental illness differently than we do.

This post that I’m sharing is very special to me because it is written by my husband. From his perspective of a particular time when I had lost hope. I’ve hesitated on sharing this because my family and friends may read this, there is no need to worry my mental illness is in remission. At the end I share my thoughts.

 
Tiff asks me once again “Can we talk?” with that pained look in her eyes that was all too familiar at this point. It had been roughly 6 months of talks, prayer and many tears over the topic of how depressed she was. Sometimes our talks would help, sometimes I would make it worse by getting frustrated and impatient. Some nights I would get the sense that we were making real progress and then a week later we would be back, her crying and us praying over the same topic I was sure we had dealt with. 

Talk of suicide had come up several times at this point, but it was always in a manner that seemed irrational. This time however, as we talk Tiffany asks me to please hide my guns from her. Now if I ever imagined what it would be like to lose a loved one, the thought in itself is difficult to swallow. But in any case, in my mind the loss was always death in the form of a tragic car accident or failing health. I never really conisdered what it would mean to me if my wife, the person I love the most on this earth was to willingly take her own life. 

As the problem solver of the family, Mr. Fix it I naturally want to think of the most logical solution to the problem. None of this made any sense to me. Life is good! We have a home, healthy beautiful kids, we both have jobs, family, friends, church and God. Why end it? Or rather why would you WANT to end it? Logic is not working. So I turn to self doubt. Is she unhappy in our marriage? Am I not leading her right? Is the life that I have tried my best to provide for our family not good enough? What should I have done differently? 

The fear and the insecurity that came with this request to hide my guns was very real. It was time to get serious about getting professional help and medication. Since Tiff was reluctant to get on medication I would only suggest it but didnt push too hard. I wanted it to be a decision she made on her own. But now it was time to push. I didn’t care if she resented me for making her see a doctor and take meds, I couldn’t deal with the thought of her wanting to kill herself. 

 The guns were immediately concealed, but I was still very concerned. Afterall, having a gun handy would make it easy but if it was this bad she could find another way if she tried hard enough. While i dont fully understand what its like to deal with mental illness, I have been reassured and I’m confident now that it’s not my fault. I am grateful to God that he has provided doctors and medicine to help. The change has been dramatic since she started taking medication and I haven’t heard the word suicide since. Our talks at night are back to being full of laughter and plans for the future. My wife, my love has come back to me. 

There were many times where I cried myself to sleep begging the me that used to exist to hold on promising her that God would bring freedom. In the beginning suicidal thoughts weren’t something I thought about often but over time they became more frequent until I thought about it everyday, all day and even started planning. Understand I didn’t want to end my life, I wanted to end the pain. 

My heart overflows with passion to share this piece of my life. When I opened up I started hearing other’s stories and understood this is not uncommon we just don’t TALK about it. I prayed John 8:31-32 and John 14:13-14. One about freedom if I just obey and the other promising an answered prayer if we would just ask. I was ashamed and fearful for years about this part of my life. Now I treasure this lifelong journey and I’m determined to use it for good. 

My doctor thought I had cancer.

January 2016 I went to my doctor for a routine wellness exam. During the visit my doctor found some abnormalities and wanted to take biopsies to see if I had cancer. The fear and terror is not something I can explain, it has to be felt. I cried when I got back to my car I don’t know how I made it home. That night I sobbed while my husband held me. 

What my doctor didn’t know was that I had been struggling with realizing my own mortality and had become an undiagnosed hypochondriac. I was also battling re-experiencing PTSD, depression and anxieties.  

I don’t have cancer. There’s nothing like a life threatening diagnosis that will make you think about your life and how you’re living it. This is when minimalism started to really introduce itself in helping me with my mental health, stress and refocusing on what really matters to me. 

We live in America. I was always trying to get somewhere FAST, comparing myself to others, consuming more and more junk putting us further into debt, indulging in unhealthy habits and at the end of the day still unhappy. 

There has been so much pain and suffering this past year. I have so much repairing to do in my relationship with God, my marriage, parenting and friendships. I no longer desire stuff that only stresses me out and pulls me further from my purpose and values. 

When we gave up 80% of our junk we didn’t focus on what we were losing but what we were gaining. I’m not saying minimalism is the answer for everyone but maybe with an open mind it is. 



Time for a change.

“Mama’s home!!” They run to me with big smiles almost tackling me to the floor as they jump into my arms. All the stress from work is gone and replaced with love and joy. I savor this because I know one day they will be too big and cool to greet mom this way. My husband turns the corner to welcome me home with a kiss and a hug. We walk together to the kitchen while he chats and I look back behind me at the living room and the tornado state it’s in. I try to focus on what he’s telling me but I can’t. Im panicking trying to remember a key word to get myself out of appearing unloving or uninterested.  

Instead I look at the sink. It’s filled. With dirty dishes. I have to wash them first because I need some of them to cook. I also forgot to thaw out the meat and I will end up cooking the meat half-frozen half thawed. I start to gather all the ingredients I will need for dinner and see I forgot to put the laundry from the washer in the dryer. There’s also several loads that need to be done, yesterday. 

We finish dinner and start our evening routine. I bathe the boys and husband washes the dishes. I make it upstairs before the boys to run the bath water. Dirty clothes everywhere. Bathe the boys and there are no clean towels. Grab a towel from our room and come back upset by our unmade bed and clothes all over the floor. Which ones are clean? Which ones are dirty? 

Boys are in their pjs and in bed. We say our prayers give kisses and hugs I walk out close the door and let out a loud sigh. Then argue with myself about how much there is to do but the day was long so I deserve to relax right? I relax because there’s always tomorrow. Can you guess how long I’ve been having that argument? Months. 

This is how we spent many evenings. There’s so much left out though like how most days I got frustrated with the boys or my husband and I argued about “the little things”. 

Something has to change. I finally realized that what I valued in my life weren’t things at all. I value my faith and loving others, my husband and our marriage, my boys and raising them to be loving human beings that would give back to the world in a positive way, my health so I could live a long life and enjoy my family and lastly nature, connecting with the beauty outside that God created for us to enjoy. This does not mean that I am giving my values 100%, no there’s always work to be done. But, I can tell you we do not spend our nights like the above anymore. 

Are you stressed? Is there not enough time in a day? Are you always being pulled in so many directions? Is your health suffering? Are you anxious or depressed? 

Then I ask what are the things you value? And are you nourishing those values? Maybe it’s time for a change. 

My husband, proof that God answers prayers.

I still remember when I used to pray for you before we met. For you to love God, be handsome, strong, wise, careful with money, hard working, humble, kind, funny, considerate, honorable, forgiving, disciplined, patient and unconditionally loving. I thought it impossible for there to be such a man…not for God. 
God has given us two wonderful gifts in our boys whom you have loved like every child deserves. You teach, instruct, guide, discipline, encourage, love, apologize, joke, inspire and comfort our sweet, sweet boys. Unfortunately they will see incorrect examples and will one day fully understand how amazing their father is. Prayerfully they will see your example and desire to be just like you in the same way you have with your father. 

The memory I hold closest to my heart with you this past year is when you told me days later that you had woken up one morning and prayed for God to take away my depression and anxieties and give it to you. That week had been particularly dark with thoughts of suicide and so many tears. I was paralyzed, non-functioning and unstable you had become my caregiver. I was angry at first because you’re a faithful man and I knew God would answer. Why would you ask for this? I would never wish it on anyone and the man I loved most especially. But after realizing how God had answered and how I spent a full day without depression and anxiety and you had, I was shocked and in awe and relieved honestly I was suffocating. I hated that it had cost you. I imagine God was amazed by your prayer and granted it knowing it would only help you understand and for certain bring us closer.

Through hardship and loss you have always been by my side. I know it has not been easy for you as you’ve held my hands up and sacrificed yourself endlessly. I will never forget this past year. Though not anymore because of the pain and suffering, but I will remember it now as the year my husbands love led me out of the wilderness and back to my first love. Austin you have helped me find my worth and value in God again. 

You are a light in my life I will never deserve. Rather than spending time trying to understand why me? I will spend it loving you passionately. My husband, I will love you always. I will be faithful and loyal to you all the days I have here on earth. I praise and celebrate the day you were born! Happy Birthday, I love you. 

First tattoo.

I don’t like the phrase “daddy issues” it’s now just another way of saying a girl is crazy. Someone shared with me once about her friend and how she went off the rails. “I don’t know, she has daddy issues so she’s crazy.” She continued talking about her friend and the things she was doing that elected her crazy and it was like I was pulled out and everything became fuzzy. I started to have flashbacks of my father, images of him twirling me around and dancing with me. Of me sitting in his lap as he held me close talking to me, only I can’t hear what he’s saying.  

It’s not like the movies either there’s not a break in the scene where you all of a sudden are watching something that has happened. It’s re-experiencing those moments with all the feelings involved. Sometimes they are moments I remember and other times I’m shocked by the memory that was lost and how clearly I remember it now.

For years I’ve fought against unfurling my childhood trauma it was uncomplicated and painless to just act as though it didn’t occur. My husband has always motivated me to make progress to draw nearer to freedom and to God. He recognized years ago that this 20+ years of fight has drained me and urged me to get help. 

I started taking medication for depression and anxiety several months ago. For me NOT taking medication was the last thing I had left. I had lost my passion to love, to parent, to eat, to laugh, to move and to live. I felt like everything had been taken from me by this unseen force that was killing me from the inside out. But the decision to take medication was mine and I was going to hold onto it until it bled the life out of me.  Understand, I had believed that I would lose myself, that I was weak, that I would be taking the easy route. All of these lies. Now, now I know how sorrowful I had become and how all I needed was to let go, let go of my pride and trust the journey. 

A friend once told me that depression and anxiety was one of the best gifts God has given him. How could so much pain be a gift?! I understand what he means now. Being honest and open about my story has brought me so much freedom and I have made so many incredible friends who have suffered through so much pain. It’s surprising to see how many people are suffocating and drowning and we don’t know. It’s an incredible feeling to be vulnerable with others and be able to help them even if it’s in a small way. 

My tattoo reminds me every time I take my medication that God wants me to trust Him with my weakness so he can give me strength and to that I say… I surrender. 

To my friend out there with the “daddy issues” who is crazy. I’m sorry your first love left you. If I could I would pull you in close, hug you tightly and whisper in your ear…I’m crazy too.