I need to stay on vacation

Ever feel like you need a vacation, when you JUST got back from vacation?? Asking for a friend…

I spent a glorious 9 days in the woods of northern Minnesota with my little boys last week. We visited a bunch of MN state parks and had so much fun. We went to bed shortly after the sun did, and woke up shortly after the sun. We ate food either made on a camp stove or on the campfire, and we enjoyed every minute – well, except the mosquitos!!

There was no work email to check, no pager to respond to, no alarms. No stress. As we got closer to home on Sunday, I could literally feel the tension coming back into my neck. I started thinking about all the things I needed to do for the week to get ready for work, thought about how many emails would be waiting for me (150+), and came back to real life.

Happy mama went away. I’m back to rushing around like a chicken with my head cut off, having a hard time getting the boys to sleep and thus having a hard time getting them to wake up, and just overall feeling stressed. I need a vacation again. I need to be back out with nature. I need less stress. I need to find a job that I can work from a tent…who’s with me?

Keeping up with the Joneses

Remember that phrase from childhood? Or did I just age myself? Remember when there would be those families on town that always seemed so perfect and had everything together, and they always had the best of everything? Remember that envious feeling you’d get when you’d see them? Thank goodness it wasn’t every day!

But now we see them every day. Everywhere. On Instagram. On Facebook. On Twitter. They have it all. They’re practically perfect in every way. And you just want to puke.

YOUR kids lose their homework. They don’t get ready when you tell them to. They wear clothes that have stains on them, because “it’s my favorite shirt”. They may or may not have worn that same stained shirt the day before… The kids don’t listen at the grocery store and you have to count to 3. Heaven forbid you have malted milk balls as a treat in with the meat & cheese roll ups and blueberries in their lunch. Is this just me here? Or do you have the same experiences?

But as we scroll on facetagram or instabook, or whatever social media platform it is we’re mindlessly scrolling when we have a million other things to do, and we see all the perfection, we start to feel imperfect. We start to feel “less than”. And we start to wonder who’s judging us.

I used to live the ‘Facebook perfect’ life. Everything looked amazing on my Facebook page. Even my marriage that was less-than-perfect. And people were a bit surprised when we got divorced. Well, I wasn’t. I was in the trenches. I knew the truth. And I wasn’t surprised. And you know what? I’m not alone. People are living their truths every day, thinking they’re less than other people because of what gets blasted in our faces daily.

So why do we still feel the need to keep up with the Joneses? We SHOULDN’T! We should be free to live our own imperfect lives. Because it’s our lives, after all. Whether you’re a bento box mom or Uncrustable with a GoGo squeeze applesauce (real lunch that was packed this week), you’re still a great mom. Just ask your kids.

Finding yourself

Do you know who you really are? Do you know what makes you tick? Do you feel “stuck” in life? Did you answer these questions in your head as you read them? Then keep reading.

21 years ago I became a mom, then I became a mom again 10 and 6 years ago. And I guess I can say I’ve identified as mom and/or wife most of the time since then. I mean, sure, I had things I liked to do, but my kids always came first and my wants/needs took the back seat. Hell, if my kids eat all their food and they’re still hungry, I STILL give them food off my plate. Good weight loss program, I suppose.

I’m not saying I no longer want to or do pay attention to my kids; on the contrary, actually. I have realized I need to do things that are good for me in order to set a good example for my kids. I used to use the excuse that I couldn’t work out when I wanted to because I didn’t want to miss out on time with my kids. But now I’ll have my kids work out with me. Even if they don’t actually do the workout, they’re in the same room as me and we can talk and giggle together while I’m getting sweaty. And when I need to be on the computer to get some work done, I can give them some of their much coveted electronic time as well, and we can be sitting together on our devices. That way they get what they want, I get what I need, and we can spend time playing card games when I’m done.

It’s easy to lose focus on yourself. But at some point you start to feel empty. When you find that thing you love and that makes you tick, you get rejuvenated, and you’ll actually be a better parent. You’ll be more fun again. Just ask my kids.

You have not failed anyone

I grew up in the church, always active in the church – as a small child I was a “clown for Christ” (yes, a CLOWN! Yikes!), then I was a part of our bell choir, regular choir, New Life teen band; I once referred to myself as a “dork for Jesus”. In my early 20s, you could still find me in our church choir, but in a much larger church and much larger choir. Then in 2007 we moved to Iowa, and I haven’t called a church “home” ever since…

Whether you’re a church-going person or not, you have SOMETHING that you do religiously. Maybe fishing or hiking is your church, maybe serving others is your church, maybe you don’t do anything at all or you don’t believe in God. Whatever the case, I ask you to continue reading. Because there’s a point to this message.

I know when we moved away from Minnesota, I was comparing every church to my Minneapolis church, and nothing compared. Not even close. So I struggled to find a church home because of comparison. It’s probably no surprise that I struggled in my marriage because of comparison, too. We seemed like we were doing ok. I would see the struggles in other relationships and think ours weren’t as bad, or so I thought. I didn’t really know what a good healthy relationship these days should look like.

When we moved back to the Minneapolis area, we used the excuse that our old church was too far away and we wanted the kids to be able to be in church school with their regular school friends. But we still didn’t find a local church home. Nothing met the standards we had set from our Minneapolis church. So we continued not to go to church, and I continued to have a growing void in my life. In my marriage, in my relationship with God, in my relationship with myself.

In the words of one of our marriage, and then uncoupling, counselors, I had grown disgusted with our marriage. It was not what I had imagined, and I fought by myself for a long time to try to keep it alive. To no avail. Because a marriage isn’t sustained by one person alone.

I had started working on personal development because of the lack I was feeling in my life, and as I read books and listened to podcasts, I learned a lot of things about myself. I tried to improve these things, but I couldn’t do it by myself. In the process of divorce, I stopped going to our uncoupling counseling, because it was just making me more angry, and started going to my own therapist. In a previous blog post, I identified that we traced the start of my personal issues back to when I was 13. When I had adults in my life that I looked up to and respected, not believe what I was saying and instead support the people who were bullying me. For 26 years, I’ve been waiting for an adult I admire and look up to, to tell me that I hadn’t failed them and I was worthy of love and respect.

As we went through the tedious and angering steps of the divorce, I avoided the church. I became ANGRY with God. How could He have led me astray with my marriage and let me keep my blinders on for so long? How could He keep putting health issues on me and adding more stress to my life? God only gives you what you can handle? I call B.S. I’ve gotten WAY more than I could handle in the last few years. And then some.

After meeting with friends recently, and having started to feel the need/desire to go to church again, I finally sent a message to my old minister, the one that had married me and my ex-husband, requesting a time to sit down with him. He had time that week. I was shaking as I drove to see him. I got in his office and almost immediately started crying as I poured out a synopsis of what happened to my marriage. And I admitted that I had let my pride get in the way of coming back. I didn’t want to admit that my marriage wasn’t successful. I felt like I had failed him and God because I hadn’t stayed married. He told me the words I needed to hear – I hadn’t failed him or God, and mistakes are human. And anger is a natural feeling and was expected given all I’ve been through. And that God hadn’t left me alone all this time, but He had suffered through all of it with me. And He still loved me. He told me I’m still a good person with a lot of inner strength. He invited me back into the church, and encouraged me to get back into the choir.

I’ve needed to hear those words for 26 years. I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I’ve felt a peace that I can’t even recall when I’ve felt last.

Have my friends and family and my boyfriend told me I’m loved in this process and that I’m a good person? Of course they have. So why didn’t that do the trick? Because it was adults with authority, adults I looked up to and trusted to help me grow up into a responsible adult, that had let me down when I was 13. I needed someone with that same authority figure to fix it. I’m so thankful for my minister. I’m thankful for the words that he said, the meaning and love behind them, and the sincerity with which he welcomed me back. None of it is a magic wand that will make everything amazing overnight, but it certainly makes the road ahead that much more bearable.

What is it that you need to be able to truly feel that you are worthy, and to start believing the positive words that others tell you? Because you haven’t failed anyone. The only person you have to explain anything to is yourself, and you’re already forgiven.

On being present

I used to be a tech-aholic. I had a smart watch for monitoring my workouts, I turned on my phone running app to monitor my runs also (yes I’d monitor on my watch AND my phone, because they weren’t always the same), AND I’d strap on my heart rate monitor to keep track of my zones. And if I forgot to push the start button on my watch or phone? Let’s not even go there…

So now you get an idea why my boyfriend had to stop and pretend he was marking a day on his calendar as we walked at the zoo the other day. I had started walking the path, intermittently holding the hands of my boyfriend and/or my children as we went, and I didn’t look at my phone or push a button to mark the starting and stopping. WHAT?! You’ve GOT to be kidding me…

I NEVER would have done this in the past. I had to mark these trips on SOMETHING to get credit for it. If my watch ran out of battery in the middle of the day, I’d get VERY cranky because it wouldn’t track my every move! I mean, why even walk anywhere if you can’t track it?!

But in the midst of my autoimmune troubles lately, I’m really working on decreasing my stress and just being. Being present, loving, breathing, laughing with my children, not even getting pictures of EVERYTHING they do to chronicle our lives. I realized after tucking the kids into bed tonight that I haven’t taken pictures of them in two days. I’ve just been with them. We cuddled on the couch, we read books, we giggled. It’s been wonderful.

I’m still working HARD to have this become the norm. My stress level has got to decrease BIG TIME! It’s the only thing I can really control right now. I can’t control much in my life, none of us can, but I CAN control how I respond to things. And I want to enjoy the days I have with my kids. I think it’s safe to say we’ve enjoyed the last few days, even though I have very few pictures to prove it. You’ll have to take my word for it. Or theirs. 🙂

Shoulding all over myself

I should be stronger. I should be smarter. I should be skinnier. I should run more. I should exercise more. I should spend more time with my kids. I should work harder. I should, I should, I should… Shoulding all over myself.

I heard this phrase in a podcast today and it struck a chord with me. I hold myself to such high standards that I have a hard time reaching them. I’m not perfect. Nor should I be. But I still hold myself up there. And when I don’t meet my standards, I feel like a failure. Why? Largely in part due to the trauma of my youth, partly due to society’s high standards.

There are expectations that everyone holds. The worst are the ones we set for ourselves. We are our own worst critics. I had friends point this out to me recently. They reminded me of all the good things about me, all of my good traits. And I have a hard time hearing those good things. It’s easier to hear that you’re NOT good enough, that you’ve made a mistake. But when you hear all the good, sometimes it’s embarrassing.

We’ve got to stop shoulding all over ourselves. We’ve got to start being ok with who and what we are. It’s starts with me. Will you start with you?

Tired of being tired

Some days are better, some days worse, but in general I’m so tired of waking up and feeling like I need another week of sleep.

This chronic fatigue business is for the birds. If I didn’t have insomnia to go along with it, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. But waking up today feeling like I was swallowing broken glass, being a snot factory (so I know I’m getting sick yet again), having a hard time holding my hair brush to brush my hair, and feeling completely wiped out, I’m feeling a little defeated. So what better thing to do than journal this with a poem, right?

I’m tired of being tired….

I’m tired of being tired.

I’m sick of being sick.

I just want to be normal again.

I wake up in pain.

I go to bed in pain.

Same shit, different day.

I was a runner.

I lifted weights.

People considered me strong.

Now it hurts to curl my hair.

Now it hurts to lift a gallon of milk.

I don’t consider me strong.

I’ve always been motivational.

I’ve always helped support others.

I never asked anyone to support me.

Now I’m tired of being tired.

I’m sick of being sick.

And I fear I’ll never be normal again.

Hope y’all are having a better Friday than me.

 

Stress isn’t just mental

Anyone who tells you stress is just mental is a liar! There, I said it. It’s so much more than mental.

I’ve lived in a chronic state of stress for YEARS! Stress from multiple moves, stress from job changes, stress from trouble getting pregnant, stress from family dynamics, stress from taking on too much. I enjoyed most of the things I did, so I didn’t think much of all the stress. I was young, I had the energy for it.

Well, I’m almost 40, and I don’t feel so young anymore. I feel like I’m 80. All of the stress of my life finally caught up with me and I was just diagnosed with an autoimmune disease. Autoimmunity is extremely affected by stress! Extremely.

I ended up in the emergency room, and had several rounds of blood draws to come up with a diagnosis of Sjögren’s syndrome. That’s a whole blog post in itself. But my mental stress became very physical, literally overnight. I worked out on a Monday and on Tuesday when I woke, I could barely move. I was crippled with pain, and it wasn’t just muscle soreness from working out.

It’s so disheartening to not be able to do the one thing you love. But after 3 weeks of doing nothing, I’m finally moving again. Stress can have some serious effects on your health. I recommend you keep yours in check.

My happy place

Why is it that those with the least amount of reserve are sometimes the ones giving the most to others?

In healthcare there is a thing called caregiver strain. Those caring for a loved one or working full time caring for patients in a hospital or other healthcare facility can actually get burned out from giving so much emotionally and physically to the ones they serve. And it can be detrimental to THEIR health.

With a bit of introspection (and the help of a trained professional) I learned today that I continually give to support others even when my own reserves are running dry. As my children are learning in school, there are cup fillers and cup drainers. I fill the cup of those around me, even if it means that my last drop is given away. Can you say the same? Do you get as much support from others as you, yourself, give? Or are you the one always getting support but you don’t give a lot in return? No judgment here, just a question.

So I need to find things on a regular basis that fill my cup again. I’ve been given a prescription to do something I enjoy and that helps me relax. I guess I’m bad enough at relaxing that I had to be given a prescription for it. Now, to find that relaxing thing…

Back in the day, I wrote poetry and songs and stories, I painted…lately my only release has been exercise but I haven’t been able to do it in 3 weeks. This is not good for my mental health! So back to that poetry…here goes my first assignment…

My Happy Place

The sun setting on the horizon

The breeze gently blowing through my hair

I sit in my comfy chair on the porch

Curled up in my favorite blanket

Listening to the crickets and the frogs and the owls just waking up.

The kids are in bed

Tucked under the covers

Gentle purring comes from their rooms.

Not a care in the world

My heart slows and keeps beat with the bullfrogs in the water.

I watch as the first stars come into view in the darkening sky

And start to see the moon’s reflection on the calm water of the lake.

Out in the yard

I hear the crackling of the campfire

The delicious smell of the freshly fallen wood taking flame fills my nose.

I join my love by the fire and watch the dancing flames.

This is my happy place.

I’ve got CRS

At what point do you start to wonder about dementia? Is it too early to worry about it when you’re in your thirties? I mean, seriously?! Where the f#%! did I leave my keys? Where are my favorite boots? What time did I schedule that appointment? Which child has their conference tonight? Where’s my phone?!?! Oh yeah, it’s in my hand. Ugh…

I work in neurology, so sometimes I feel like I know too much. But sometimes it’s just enough to make me think I’m a hypochondriac. I mean, when you’re in your twenties and thirties, you shouldn’t forget things as often as I do, right??

I have my calendar on my phone now, because I couldn’t remember where I had my pocket-sized calendar. I don’t remember when my kids met all their milestones anymore, but I can tell you they were ahead of all of them. BUT, I can tell you what my first AND second drivers license numbers were, a few phone numbers from when I was a kid, my social security number, and some random other facts that have somehow managed not to escape my brain. And I can remember which room in the hospital many of my patients were in, way back to the year 2000 when I was a nursing assistant.

And do I really worry about dementia? No. I know it’s really just stress. I’ve been so stressed for so long that I can’t even hold onto memories. Sometimes I think it’s my brain’s way of protecting me from things that were painful and I don’t REALLY want to remember them anyway. But unfortunately not all the memories that slipped away were painful. I wish I could have them all back, but I guess some things in the movie Inside Out were spot on – after a while the old memories get shoved to the dump never to be retrieved again.

So I suffer from stress-induced CRS disease. Can’t. Remember. Shit. …….ugh. My kids remind me of things, thankfully, and some of the memories come back when they say things or do things that they used to do. And I’m grateful when those memories pop back into my mind, instead of heading off to the dump. But I still can’t rattle off my favorite recipe for tater tot hot dish. I’ll still pull it up on my tablet and scroll through it as I cook. It’s on the menu for tomorrow night. I better go find the link…