I just want to make Peace with all the Pieces

I'm struggling. It FEELS like there is a VERY fine line between digging up memories so that I can make peace with my past and move forward, and finding someone to blame for where I am. At this point I am not sure if this is something that I "must" do. I mean, is this whole digging up memories thing something that I "must" do in order to be emotionally healthy? I'm really not cool with it. Like, not at all.

I am very well aware that things happened in my life that were....difficult. 

My life has not been perfect. Has yours? My guess is no. Life just isn’t perfect. If it was, what want would we have for heaven? (That’s a post for another day.)

Did my parents do things that cause me pain? 

Of course they did. Are there things that I wish they'd done differently? Of course there are. But you know what? They're just people. I'm not sure it's fair (or beneficial) to blame  anyone for where I am now. (Especially since I am absolutely praying that my children will show me some grace when they judge my parenting skills.) I FEEL like the whole "digging up memories" thing is not much more than looking for someone to blame for this special brand of crazy I've ended up with. I'm not okay with that. That doesn't feel "right" to me.

My parents (and yours) have their own closet load of crap dumped on them by THEIR parents, who had a closet load of their own compliments of theirs.

Add a lifetime of choices (some good, some terrible, and everything in between), and my parents are just trying to get through life the best they can...just like I am. They have their own special brand of crazy that they have to manage every day... just like I do.

Kids don't come with a booklet of fail-safe instructions. 

I firmly believe that my parents did the best they could with what they had to work with. My bet is that yours did too. Perfect? Not by a long shot. Good grief! I'm certainly no where close to being a perfect parent myself! How can I blame my parents for being less than perfect in parenting me?

I know that there are people out there who suffered extreme abuse and I am in NO WAY saying that's okay. 

No one should EVER abuse a child, be it physically, mentally, sexually, or emotionally. That's never okay and should never be tolerated. Abuse leaves scars that never go away....but they can fade in time, with lots of help, with lots of effort and patience...and lots (and lots) of counseling. Please understand, I am NOT making light of abuse. Not at all. Goodness knows that's several months' worth of posts all on its own!

(deep breath)

Okay, I'm just thinking through this...

I know that everyone in my life has shaped me in one way or another (both for better and for worse), but seriously, I've caused myself significant amounts of grief on a daily basis. I'm just not sure that assigning blame to someone else for where I am now is going to help...it's not going to change anything. Assigning blame to someone is not going to undo the past. 

(sigh)

I just want to make peace with all the broken pieces that make me…me.

Maybe digging up old memories is the way to do that. Maybe not. I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?

  

Much love and big hugs,

K

Pandora's Box

I scheduled my first counseling session the Monday morning after I got out of the hospital on Saturday. (That would have been July 24, 5 days post-suicide attempt) Actually, I had a panic attack on my way to work and decided that counseling was probably a better idea than work. I am so thankful that I could get an appointment that same day.

My original counselor was exactly what I needed that day. He assured me that I would be okay, but that there is a process to this. He thought it best that I wait to return to work and just focus on recovering for a bit. I pressed him to release me to go back to work later that week, which he later told me he was not comfortable with. I should have listened to him then. I did rush to get back to "normal' instead of stopping to focus on what was going on in my head at the time.




After those initial visits, he focused on digging up "buried memories" and I quickly became defensive,  discouraged and frustrated. During my visit on August 1, he told me to picture myself in my earliest memory and tell him about that memory. I did. He told me to picture myself walking up to "little Kris" and tell her "everything is going to be okay."

I looked him square in the eye and said, "No. I'm not telling her that. That's a lie. Everything is NOT going to be okay." He reminded me that I AM okay. I have a family who loves me, a career I enjoy, a huge support system of friends, a home to live in...I AM okay. I told him "I tried to kill myself less than 2 weeks ago. I - am - not - o-kay."

I suppose I was a weeeee bit dramatic.

He asked me to sign a contract saying that I wouldn't try to hurt (or kill) myself again. I told him I could sign whatever he wants but "I can't honestly tell you that I won't."

Probably should have just signed the stupid contract, because that night I was admitted to a "short term" facility. When I was admitted, they told me I could stay there anywhere from 5-10 days. 

I stayed for 6 days and nights. 

This was NOT the best part of  my journey to healing. This is NOT something I want to do again. However, should I find myself in the frame of mind that I want to kill myself, I will go back -  if that's what it takes to protect me from myself. Besides, I learned a LOT while I was hospitalized the second time. One of the main things being that digging up all those buried memories is like opening Pandora's Box. There's really no telling what's in there and no way to know how that will affect me. Turns out, I have plenty of other, more pressing stuff to sort through than repressed childhood memories. It's okay to leave them buried...for now anyway. 

Much Love and BIG BIG Hugs!!!
K

Here's what I know to be true:

• God has not left me, nor has He turned His back on me. 
• Pleasing people should not be my ultimate goal in life. 
• Satan Distracts and Deceives
• I am loved more than I ever realized. 
• Feelings are not Facts
• I need to pay attention to my desire (or lack of desire) to do the things I normally enjoy.
•  It will get better. It always does.
• Suicide is not the answer.
• God’s not finished with me yet.
• I am fearfully and wonderfully made by the Creator of the universe.
• "Functional" is not the same as "okay", but some days it's the best you can do.
• Digging up memories is like opening Pandora's Box.

Sometimes it's okay not to be "okay"

I didn't go to the hospital after I cut my wrists. 

I should have, but I was pretty sure that a failed suicide attempt would get me committed, so I chose not to go.  It didn't seem real. The gaping holes in both my arms puzzled me. It was as though they shouldn't be there. When I got up the next morning, my arms were still bleeding. I knew I had to have some stitches. I called and made an appointment with my doctor. 

My Dr. closed up my arms and told me she would really like for me to have some "in-patient treatment."

I stayed in the hospital for 72 hours.

I slept...a lot. I read the Bible and wrote in my journal. I went to Group counseling and visited with my psychiatrist.  I remember feeling very...numb. It was like I was there...but I wasn't. Maybe it was all the meds they had me on. Maybe I was in shock. I had this feeling like I was dreaming...like I'd wake up at any moment and be at home, in my own bed, with no stitches in my arms.

Oh! One slightly funny thing did happen... 

The Psychiatrist asked me how long I'd been depressed and I said,

"Depressed? Oh, I'm not depressed." 

The look on his face was priceless when he looked over his glasses and said,

"Mrs. Williams, you tried to end your life yesterday. 

You are most certainly depressed."

We had a long discussion about what depression is and, sure enough, I agreed that I was/am "most certainly depressed."

I stayed in the hospital until I was "functional."

I think the definition of "functional" is "able to dress and feed yourself, and not cry 24 hours a day," because that's about how "functional" I was when I went home. 

But I DID get to go home.

I still had stitches in my arms. Calvin made sure someone was with me all the time. I didn't have any answers for why I did what I did. I wasn't sure myself. It was all very surreal. I felt dazed. My thoughts were dark and my mind was clouded.

I may have been "functional," but I was totally not "okay."

Since then, I've learned that if "functional" is the best you can do, then be "functional."
Sometimes it's okay to not be okay.

Much love and BIG hugs,

K

Here's what I know to be true:

• God has not left me, nor has He turned His back on me. 
• Pleasing people should not be my ultimate goal in life. 
• Satan Distracts and Deceives
• I am loved more than I ever realized. 
• Feelings are not Facts
• I need to pay attention to my desire (or lack of desire) to do the things I normally enjoy.
•  It will get better. It always does.
• Suicide is not the answer.
• God’s not finished with me yet.
• I am fearfully and wonderfully made by the Creator of the universe.
• "Functional" is not the same as "okay", but some days it's the best you can do.