MENTAL HEALTH

Life is a Highway (or Avenue)

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Tonight while driving across town to run errands, I had a moment of reflection about these same roads I have driven thousands of times before. As someone that lives with mental health issues, there are emotional and physical responses that come about while driving down certain roads in my town; one of the “joys” of having what I affectionally call a “sticky brain”. It’s as though my mind has imprinted on the streets that I’ve traveled and can recall, sometimes rather vividly, how I have felt or what I have thought before in those same areas at different times in my life. It could be that I took a yoga class in that building, went to a doctor on that street, or bought soda at that 7-11. Unfortunately, the memory of those places and events are inexplicably tied to great internal discomfort; to a long season of my past when my mental health was broken and weary.

For several years, the memory of those places or streets would cause a feeling of dread, heavy sadness or strong anxiety. It would come on strong and stick around for the afternoon or evening. When I learned a thing or two about the best practices for mental health recovery, I understood that this recall of memories was something I could practice accepting; maybe even bring up myself as I drive those roads. With time (and I mean lots of it), I can often feel very little of that familiar discomfort. That doesn’t mean that it doesn’t like to sucker punch me at times, but I’ve accepted (rather begrudgingly) that I have a very strong recall when it comes to uncomfortable memories and feelings and that’s just a matter of fact.

Tonight while driving, I saw it a bit differently though. I saw these same streets and paths as a metaphor for our lives. We travel along with a general aim and purpose directing us, but there are many potholes and unexpected detours that we take. These can wreak havoc if we’re running late, run out of gas or rear-end someone at the stoplight. It just doesn’t make sense for us to expect smooth travels every time we “get in the car”, but as humans, we do it anyway. We expect the unrealistic and become disappointed and disillusioned as soon as it seems to be otherwise. My “Life is a Highway” metaphor came tonight with a soft, settled feeling in my heart. I literally put my hand on my heart because I sensed a bit of an internal truce; one where I made peace with those roads and memories of discomfort. It is a part of me. It may not always be this way because that is surely one thing I’ve learned: our feelings fluctuate, but it felt cozy tonight and I thought to share with you, dear reader. Maybe you needed a reminder that your life paths thus far may have been filled with detours and distracted drivers, but you are still on the right path. Keep driving.

This Thanksgiving Day

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I’m wearing a cozy sweater and puffy vest right now and taking in delightfully crisp weather on this Thanksgiving Day. My view entails a multitude of fall colors in the trees and those leaves already fallen, the light reflecting off the lake with shades of moss green from the depth, along with a faint whiff of firewood burning (or maybe that’s my own clothing that’s oozing of it from the last couple days of campfire smoke). A family reunion of sorts is occurring this Thanksgiving Day and I am with some of my most favorite people in the whole wide world. Cool weather makes everything feel a little better. Cozy sweaters, wool socks, puffy vests, pumpkin pie cooling…these are indeed a few of my favorite things.

 It doesn’t mean that I feel pure joy in every moment of this season, but rather that I feel moments of immense joy that spur me on towards the next moment and the one after that. With influencers pushing the magic of the pumpkin spice that make things appear practically perfect, sometimes it can feel like we’re doing something wrong; like we should be jumping in piles of leaves without a care in the world. Life doesn’t stop for us though. Thankfully, we can practice gratitude and often be surprised by how helpful that can be to encourage us to move through the ups and downs. The author/artist Ruth Cho Simons reminded me today on Instagram of this truth. She said, “Tell your soul what to do. Rehearse what to do, not just what you feel.” This doesn’t say “slap on a fake smile” to me, but rather be gentle and simply practice (it’s become my favorite phrase in working towards health) gratitude. I shared her post to my page just in case I had friends that needed to hear it, too. You can feel both: the icky and the delightful. It’s a gift to recognize that it’s ok to do so.

My gratitude bucket overflowed this week. I certainly had grumpy, tired, dog-barfing, disposal clogging, dead dad sadness, and constipation woes, too, but the cozy moments were dabbled enough in between. I’m thankful for the family we spent time with this past week, from a camping trip to a lakeside family slumber party. I’m thankful for the bright green patches of grass poking up from under a thick layer of brown and gold crisp leaves. I’m thankful for the remains of a charcoaled fire pit that brought silly jokes, belly laughs and plans for future gatherings of cousins. I’m thankful for the boat dock that held a dozen family members snuggled and relaxing, a wirey-haired puppy dog, and chilly fingertips being periodically warmed by the sun.

I’m deeply grateful for my Auntie who speaks words of life to me. She whispers in my ear as she hugs and they are things I didn’t know I desperately needed to hear. I’m thankful that I had the opportunity to finally meet a long-lost cousin and see him meld in with us almost as though we’ve always known him. I’m thankful for the hope of future reunification of family members. I’m thankful for the comfort of my mother, especially as I feel the permanency of losing my Dad, and that she lives close to me so I can regularly know that comfort. I’m thankful for my step-Dad, that has smoothly moved into the role as one of my children’s grandfathers. I’m thankful for the mix of conversation, both silly and reflective, that I have with my cousins and wish I had hours more. I’m thankful for my little brother, especially as I hear him in conversation across the room refer to me as his sister, because it makes me feel the sacredness of that title and reminds me of how glad I am that we have each other. I’m thankful for my beautiful sister-in-law and her peaceful nature that oozes out when around her.

Even though I’ve spent a great deal of time in very close quarters to my immediate people and worked through whining, dirty socks and stinky toots, I’m feeling cozy gratitude for the opportunity to love them. I’m delightfully exhausted from this weeklong trip, but also ready for the Christmas season that has now begun. I’m ready to welcome in the stressful moments, frustrating disappointments when I’ve let my expectations get the best of me, and will look for and practice carrying a spirit of joy, whether I feel like it or not. Will you join me? 

Xoxo, Emily

Feeling All the Feelings That I Feel

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I’m feeling overwhelmed. I’m not, but it feels like it. I don’t need anyone to give me grief or tell me I shouldn’t act/feel/think this way because I’m my own worst critic. I don’t have it bad. I have an abundance of good. The biggest culprit behind my overwhelm right now is being smack in the middle of moving from one home to the next, but I should be grateful and shouldn’t be complaining, right? Just like the kind older woman from church told me years ago when I gave a her a brief peek into my anxious mind, “Just look at your blessings!” There may not be logic to my swirling feelings, but this is depression. Although I’m not sure why, I’d like to give you a glimpse into what depression looks like on me; a 42-year-old privileged mother who should be thriving. It may even look like I am on the outside, but the swirling is on the inside.

Because I have had many, many years of mental health counseling, I’ve picked up a few phrases or explanations for how depression works. It’s one thing to know the buzz words and quite another to apply them in real life. I often deal with a lot of Cognitive Distortions. Maybe you do, too. Most of the time I don’t catch them, but sometimes I do. Just the other day I very loudly noticed one of these distortions in action and it allowed me to recognize that maybe my depression was “inflamed”, if you will. Mental illnesses are generally chronic and when life hits with an increase in stress, the symptoms can become exacerbated. In a nutshell, I feel like a failure in most areas. This comes in the internal critique that I’m lazy. It comes in the form of thoughts like, I’m not a good mother. Some of my friends didn’t invite me to hang out with them because I’m a burden. I can’t keep up with basic things in the house. This person thinks I’m annoying. That family member thinks I’m complaining too much. They don’t want to spend time with me. How come they didn’t call me? I don’t know how to be myself. I spoke out about something and now have done irreversible damage to that relationship. God is disappointed in me. I’ll never get better at this.

As I type that list and the phrases kept flooding, I burst into tears because of how awful they sound and yet how true they feel. This is depression. These are cognitive distortions. If you’re not familiar with what that means, here is a list I stumbled upon that I found helpful and clear. In addition to picking up on that negative banter that was becoming a regular script, I’ve noticed how much more tired I feel. I’ve been crying more often. I even had a “classic” sign of crawling into my bed one morning this week and sleeping rather than being productive like I should have. I recently reduced my anti-depressant medication (with my doctor’s approval) and this may be a solid sign that I may need to go back up to where I was. Is that disappointing? A bit. The side effects (weight gain, lethargy and an increase in heat-sensitivity aka sweaty!) aren’t my favorite, but I do know that my well-being is more important.

Besides considering my medication dosage, what else can I do about it? Thankfully, I’ve had a lot of “experience” with this so I’m a tiny bit better equipped, but it’s still not easy. Another buzz word from therapy is Behavioral Activation. This is basically doing the things you know you should do, but really don’t want to do. It’s moving forward; one step at a time. It’s really the only way to find more freedom or ease of symptoms, but it won’t feel good right away. It may not feel good for some time. It may be as simple as getting out of bed and walking to the mailbox each day or for me right now, it’s getting up with my alarm or purposely listening to a podcast that I like. I need to and want to be kind to myself. Right now I may feel frustrated or angry with myself, but I can practice being kind. The biggest key I have in my toolbox is PRACTICING. I am going to choose to practice making space for quiet in my day and for setting small goals. I’m also going to ask for help. I’m going to pray and PRACTICE reminding myself of how God truly feels about me; whether I feel like it’s true or not.

If you have experienced anything like this or love someone that does and you don’t know what to say or do, begin by asking for help. Try to be consistent. Practice being kind to yourself. This life is filled with so many emotions and experiences. Just because you may be more sensitive to those things doesn’t mean you are wrong or broken. Our minds just need more tending to; just like a diabetic or quadriplegic need more physical tending. We are worth it. As I heard this morning in church worship, if I’m not dead, then God’s not done. We are still breathing and I’m here right alongside you.

Father’s Day Tribute

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Tomorrow is the first Father’s Day without my Father alive. It’s strange and heavy. Just in the last 24 hours I’ve thought of handful of questions to which I know he’d have the answer or could add detail. Thoughts and emotions about him tumble in at miscellaneous times and often choke me up. I hear from others that this is quite normal and doesn’t necessarily have a time limit. 

To honor my Father today, I decided to share my words from his funeral a few months ago:

“Many of you here have experienced the loss of a parent. Depending on the circumstances, there are many emotions that can come and go. It’s strange to feel so many ways and to have emotions pop up suddenly or stirred by the most seemingly insignificant trigger. Last week as I thought ahead to this weekend, I found myself excited for a moment because one of my favorite cousins and his family along with my brother and sister-in-law would be in town, but then almost immediately I was met with tears because I could imagine just how incredibly happy the healthy version of my Dad would be to see this same group of people and all of you. I can see his grin. I could imagine the short, one-liners he’d have that often caught me off guard and made me smile because I knew he was comfortable and happy. I know many of you know that version of my Dad, too. 

With the sadness that comes with loss, there is a feeling of wrongness, one that says we shouldn’t be experiencing this pain. One of the few benefits of disappointing struggles in this life is that, not only can it humble us, but it can also bring light to an often ignored truth which is that this human life is not meant to be easy or pain-free. As a believer in something bigger and greater than myself, I decide each day to trust that there is meaning behind each disappointment. I came across two quotes this week that highlight this truth. 

C.S. Lewis, a man that found himself determined to prove that the God of the Bible did not exist, yet ended up referring to himself as the “most reluctant convert in all of England” has said, “We must stop regarding unpleasant or unexpected things as interruptions of real life. The truth is that interruptions are real life.” 

Also, a former pastor that planted churches in New York City, who is currently going through treatment for cancer said about he and his wife, “To our surprise, an encouragement we have discovered is that the less we attempt to make this world into a heaven, the more we are able to enjoy it. No longer are we burdening it with demands impossible for it to fulfill.” 

When recently I wrote about the passing of my Dad, I purposely did not skim over the hard stuff; the icky and sad stuff about his struggles. Although his death was initially deemed “natural causes”, we decided to go forward with an autopsy just in case we found helpful information. Although I didn’t have great concern that his death was anything other than natural causes, the morning I received the call from the pathologist with initial findings, I felt an odd calm after learning that he passed from a heart attack from 95% blockage and a contributing bleeding ulcer. I don’t know what the afterlife is like, but I began talking to my Dad as I drove down the road. I told him how thankful I was that he didn’t commit suicide and that he had essentially chosen to “hold on” when it was especially dark for him. Although he told me once that when it came to going against God’s will, he was a coward, I know he also didn’t want us to experience the same heartache as he did with his brother’s death. It was one of, if not the, hardest experiences in his almost 70 years. 

Life is hard. It’s filled with great joys and incredible highs, but it’s hard. We each walk our own paths through this life while having different genetics, heritage, circumstances, brain chemistry and opportunities. My father may have been dealt a challenging hand, but I do know he made the best of it by pushing through and taking full advantage of opportunities. I would describe him as a classic self-made man who started in the air conditioning field and produced a very successful business, of which my husband and I are incredibly grateful to now own and grow. He was not perfect, but he was giving and compassionate and clever. As I think all parents do, he wanted his children to have a better life than he did; better opportunities to go to college and pursue dreams. I remember him telling me to find something I love doing and make that a job. 

My brother and I have begun to see some of the enriching qualities that we’ve received from my Dad. Unfortunately for my outgoing Mom at times, the three of us are very similar; introspective introverts with a splash of ADHD. We enjoy being with friends and family, but need that recovery space afterwards to decompress. Loud and crowded events are not our forte! 

Although we feel very grateful for those wonderful qualities, we also see opportunity in the ways we’d like to do things differently and I know he would agree. One area in which my father was especially weak was admitting to internal struggles and accepting help. By being a male and growing up in the generation that he did, I bet it made it especially difficult. Thankfully, the mental health stigma is slowly crumbling, but it still remains an ever-present uphill climb for most. No matter how old you are, there is hope available if you are hurting. My own experience with finally finding a correct diagnosis for my OCD shows me that there is hope, but we must look for it and hold the hand of the one offering it. If you have someone in your life that is struggling with their mental health, the #1 piece of advice I have is to never, ever give up on them. Never stop reminding them that you are there and willing to help them with finding the hope and grabbing ahold of it for dear life. 

The IF-ONLYs about the latter part of my Dad’s life are disappointing. Lately, I hear my kids crack a joke or do something that makes me want to squeeze them because I love them so much, I think that maybe my Dad is watching. Again, I don’t know how things go once the human body dies or how interactive they are with us still here on Earth, but maybe he’s giving that grin that I love so much and genuinely laughing. It meant he was in a good place in those moments. I hope he is feeling completely free of all the heaviness he carried around for so long and is enjoying watching his grandkids from there. Just last night as I was looking at the pictures we gathered of him, I felt waves of sadness because I realized that the way I feel about my children, how I tell them that being their mother is my absolute most favorite thing in the world, that is how he felt about Ty and me. I wish he were here because I know my healthy Dad would knock it out of the park as a grandfather, but that can’t be. 

This life is not all there is. I will see him again, but until then, I will continue to do my best to take care of myself so I can be the best mother, wife, sister, daughter, and friend I can be. I want to continue to make him proud. 

Again, I want to thank you for being a part of my father’s life. If you feel it may have been insignificant, my faith in God tells me that no interaction is without significance, value and purpose. As funerals or memorials like these usually do, our busy lives briefly pause as we consider death and all it implies. Take advantage of the next few hours or days as you contemplate life and death. Although it’s tempting, try not to shove away that discomfort, but welcome it as an opportunity to see how it can impact your choices and interactions with others. You are loved.”

Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love you so much. 

Productive Productivity

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I had a solid sleep last night and woke up with a productive mindset. Had breakfast out on the table for the kids and was prepping lunches while my coffee brewed. This type of morning gives me a boost of both energy and confidence; I’m doing it “right”. After finishing a cleaning task and snack break this afternoon, I felt weary and laid down on the couch. I set my phone alarm for another shot at the highly beneficial 20-minute cat naps that everyone says are so good for our brain and body. I knew it was a long shot, but as expected I hit snooze and took three or four 20- minute naps. Whoops. I was doing it “wrong”. That is not how I’m “supposed” to use my time. Think of all the projects yet to be done around the house. What about the books I’m wanting to read? This is not how I anticipated my productive day.

The example of my day isn’t too big of a deal. I imagine lots of folks feel frustrated that they didn’t use their time wisely, binged too many episodes, or ended up taking a 3-hour cruise type of afternoon nap. It happens. What also happens is that some people use what therapists may call “black or white thinking” and put a tally in their “failure” category. Maybe your column has a different title; unworthy, bad mom, etc. Do you do that? Do you use your actions to determine your value? I believe it can very often be a subconscious tally we might give ourselves. However, over time, we can begin to feel the weight of those negative tally marks. We have given ourselves so many reasons or examples of “evidence” of our unworthiness that we can start to believe it.

Although I sat down at my computer with a completely different goal in mind for this post, I’ve found myself working through something myself and if I needed the reminder then maybe you do, too. Dear Reader, if you find yourself feeling lousy and feeding yourself assumptions about your character based on things you do or don’t do, start to pay attention. Something to start trying is to introduce realistic truths such as, “Yeah, I took a longer rest than I wanted to, but maybe I’m more tired than I realize. Instead of beating myself up for it, I’m going to try and be kind to myself. I don’t always take long naps and I do value being productive, so I’m going to choose to move on forward with the rest of my day and do the best I can.” Another reminder is that the people we love may have their own tally marks going on inside their minds; aim for compassion towards them, too.

Love, Emily

Would Ya Look at That View!

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Right now I’m sitting in a cozy chair with one of the most beautiful views in my hometown. My in-laws live in a stunning home on the river with spacious windows that allow you to see the river out back (does that sound like a real estate listing description, or what?) 

I feel almost completely content and generally hopeful. Because of its rarity and because my brain is usually busier, I do not take this for granted. I’ve sat here many times before and this morning, I’m reflecting on just how terribly awful I’ve felt during those times. As you know, often and disappointingly so, the yucky times tend to nab a more prominent part in our memory bank. 

We are here this morning because our home has just been put on the market and we’re staying out of the way this weekend to keep it tidy. Ironically, the emotional and mental breakdown I had sixteen years ago occurred in this beautiful home. While my in-laws were living in their seasonal home, we briefly moved in here while our home was being built. Upon moving in, I wrote a joyful journal entry expressing all I hoped to accomplish and in which creative outlets I planned to dabble. Quite drastically the next entry spoke of complete confusion and misery. Just like the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, “my life got flipped, turned upside down” and constant, intense anxiety ruled every hour. 

I feel uneasy as I type because of how sensitive I am to those memories. My OCD wants me to stop typing it for fear that “it’ll come back”. So, I type some more! The heavy tears, shivering as though I had a fever, drastic weight loss, the fears over taking Zanax to get to sleep, a dear friend encouraging me and watching to be sure I a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, waking at 5:00am to immediate nerves…it was such an awful time. 

Over the years, I recall sitting in this chair at times to hide away during social gatherings, as I did my best to put on a smile and hide the heaviness or strong anxiety I had coursing through my insides. I remember sitting here crying on a beautiful Easter Sunday, but I was not able to see the beauty. 

Even though it feels heavy to recall all of these memories and I somewhat regret bringing it back as it puts a damper on my initial cozy contentedness I referred to at the beginning, I think it’s vitally important to do so because I want to possibly bring HOPE to someone that may read this. I don’t feel that way today. Yes, there is always the possibility of doing a crash and burn tomorrow and my OCD takes a liking to that idea, but I am not in misery. I’ve had great difficulty and pain over the last sixteen years, but it’s also been a time of up and down learning and growing. Life is hard. If you struggle with a mental illness of any kind, it may be something you have to manage for life, but it is not a death sentence. There is help. With practice and consistency, there are tools and habits that can help us learn to make space for discomfort so that we don’t make those feelings worse. There is always HOPE, dear reader. 

It’s Christmas Time, All Over the World

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Christmas Eve is here at last. Or should I say, Christmas Eve is already here?! I’ve been involved in numerous conversations surrounding how “weird” this Christmas season feels because it’s come so quickly after Thanksgiving this year. Of course, we are usually feeling scrambled and a bit frantic this time of year, but this time felt different and I don’t think many people were keen on it, especially considering how much work it is!

I’ve been grateful to have been slowly learning over the last few years to better anticipate life to simply happen and “mess up” any grand, magical plans I’ve created in my mind over what the holiday season should look like. Sometimes that’s still tough; i.e. the tears shed over broccoli at my five-year-old’s birthday dinner (by both mother and daughter. don’t ask) I’ve written about this before, but some things bear repeating. We can blame society, social media, and the Hallmark Channel, but the expectations many of us place on ourselves and families for the “perfect” holiday experience can really be detrimental. We can be going at a rapid pace trying to fit in all of the experiences that we’re “supposed” to do and completely lose sight of the point. Yesterday, I was internally complaining about all of the gifts I still needed to wrap and I’m so thankful that I then had the thought that I get to wrap all of these gifts. What a GIFT!

Dear reader, wherever you are, as one of my favorite podcasters says, I want to give you a “big, fat virtual hug” this Christmas season. You are exactly where you are for a specific purpose today. I’m truly sorry if you are feeling heavy and sad. Life is so hard. I personally cling to the hope that comes through the promise of Jesus Christ that this is not all there is. If you are reading this now, close your eyes and take a few simple, slow breaths. Gently remind yourself that all is well just as they are, even if they are not well (for example, my dear friend and her children that have been vomiting the last couple of days. sigh). It is OK to feel that disappointment. One of the better tips I’ve heard through counseling is to tell myself something along the lines of, “Things are not as I wish they were, but I’m going to look for the tiniest bit of good, be kind to myself, and practice gratefulness even if I might not feel like it.” You are a gift. Merry Christmas!

Valentine Baby

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On this day ten years ago I was in the hospital anticipating the arrival of my first child. My baby was already revealing his stubborn nature by staying put until I had to be induced at ten days overdue! Because we’d kept his official name secret until he was born and with a February 14th birthday, the family jokes started flowing as to whether he’d be named Valentino.

Labor was intense in the morning due to the induction process, so an epidural was ordered and administered much to my delight. Minor struggles occurred through the afternoon as they tweaked the dosage and we endured a rather intense pushing window, but by 5:15pm, my chunky 9-pound baby had arrived.

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Here was this little human being that my husband and I were now completely responsible for and although we’d taken the classes and read the books, it was a little (lot) scary. The unknown was looming. My little brain wanted so badly to be well and handle the stress of a newborn and the challenges that awaited us when we went home. Long nights and the zombie phase came and went, my anxiety disorder intensified in his first year of life and I experienced an arduous battle over the first several years of his life. But, as I look back at the last decade and see the challenges that have been allowed through the providence of God, I also see tenderness and love. This little boy carries several habits and traits of mine and that allows for locking of horns at times, but like I’ve begun to tell him so often that I get eye rolls, I LOVE being his mother. He is bright, funny,  and clever. We both love to read and often share read-aloud time at night. Like his Daddy, he is so wonderful with younger kids and often plays so well with his little sister. It brings me immense joy to think that she has him for the rest of her life; a caring, protective big brother. He has been especially brave this past year by starting a new sport and will be heading away for a real summer camp in a few months.

As an older friend of mine said, it can be sad when all of the sweet little kid seasons pass and you mourn the gentle baby you can hold in your arms, BUT what fun it is to see them grow up! There are numerous seasons to come that I get to be a part of and I’m honored. My little boy is ten years old today; my Valentine Baby. I love him and as I prayed when he was tiny, I pray that he will lead others to Christ, learn and develop a servant’s heart, and most importantly, I hope he will always know that he is loved, NO MATTER WHAT. Happy 10th Birthday, Sweet Boy! I love you!

It’s Dark in Here.

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The mountains and valleys of life are very curious and unpredictable. Just when I think I may be turning the corner or slowing down the ride for a nice view, the roller coaster does a big dip and makes my stomach flop. If you know me at all, you know I greatly dislike roller coasters. I don’t like the unknown, the icky feeling, AKA “thrill” feeling it gives some people.

Though I recently went through a really rough batch and felt forgotten and lonely, I ultimately know that I am not. It’s so easy to forget when it’s dark though. I imagine you can relate. I heard this message in a few different ways as I was working through the dark spot: look for the little ways that God is providing, nudging me, or reminding me that He’s there. In one of the sermons at church I heard, “the way God often works is through committed kindness, little by little”. That can come in many ways and I found it a timely and helpful reminder to keep me from wallowing too much in my self-pity.  A kind encourager told me that God reveals Himself way more than I likely realize. As I have come to recognize and gratefully so: just because God doesn’t fix me or my circumstances doesn’t mean He’s not present. I have spent a lot of time getting caught up in that frustrating web, which really ends up just entangling me more tightly. Tim Keller says, “If we are in a storm and we pray to him, he may still the storm (Mark 4:39), or he may instead help us, as he did Peter, to walk through the storm without sinking (Matthew 14:27-31).”

I hope you, dear reader, can begin to look up and out more often at the ways your Creator may be providing for and encouraging you. Ask Him to direct ways that you could be used by Him to encourage someone else. He is good. No matter what it looks like outside or feels like inside, He is good. 

Welcome, 2017!

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Where are you right now? Are you emotionally spent from the holidays? Tired and weary? Or maybe you’ve taken down your Christmas decorations and are feeling organized, energetic and optimistic about the coming year? Or, like me, you may be a bit of both depending on the time of day.

I have been struggling over the last couple of weeks, off and on, with my basket of uneasiness and depression. I am very thankful that it didn’t suck all of the joy from my Christmas celebration with family. It has been an unwanted guest for many beautiful gatherings in the past, so I appreciate the break.  I had a hard time sleeping the night before last and as I’ve written before, that encourages my anxiety monkey to hold on tighter than average.  It nags at me and makes me feel heavy. I’m short-tempered with my children when I want to be patient and attentive. Yesterday I took my kids on a long walk and purposely tried looking up and out. I’ve spent thousands of hours looking inward at the way I was feeling and being consumed by my thoughts and worries over those thoughts. I’m tired of doing that. I want to kick it’s ass. But, I’m a vulnerable prey to it’s grip and it’s a tough battle sometimes.

I believe my most recent “batch”, as I call them, was instigated by stress. That’s fairly common, but it’s so easy for me to dismiss that stress and not connect the dots as to why I may have gotten stuck on an icky thought or feel defeated. I want to make that point clear, so that you, dear reader, are not also falling victim to the “shoulds” of life. Last week when I was cringing against the potential avalanche of scary feelings that I dread and wondering why I’d gotten stuck, I briefly spoke with my Mom about it. She pointed out the added stress I’d had of preparing for Christmas and my daughter’s family birthday party, on top of the everyday Mom duties. I knew it had been a bit stressful, but as I referenced above, I had dismissed it and thought, ” I should be able to handle it and anyways, it’s fun stress!” As I spent some time reflecting on the previous few weeks, I could recall a sense of intensified pressure I’d been putting on myself. I wanted things to be just so, holiday fun and festive, trying to maintain an almost neurotic clutter-free zone in the house, planning out when we’d do Christmas movie nights, cookies, light cruising, etc., etc. Will everyone jive at the birthday party? (divorced parents make for added stress). The house should be just so. It’s my job. I should be able to handle all of the extras.

This certainly carries over into my mental health struggles, too, because I often feel and hear myself thinking, “I should be over this by now” or “I shouldn’t be feeling this way”. That’s not fair inner dialogue and only consistently heaps pressure on our heads as mothers/husbands, spouses, Christians, friends, siblings, sons/daughters, so on and so forth. What are you “shoulding” about? Several years ago I did a self-help program for anxiety and depression and a lesson theme was, “Stop Shoulding On Yourself!” Often times we don’t even hear it or like me, we keep at a distracted, busy pace and don’t notice that the “shoulds” are wearing us thin. You may not have a kick-in-the-pants anxiety monkey like I do, but beware that the stress and “shoulds” may peek out in other ways.

If I were giving myself advice, which is really what a great deal of my blogging is, I would say that it’s important to be open to warning signs of the stressors. Stress is normal and at certain times, depending on circumstances, it can be at an all-time high. That’s ok, but it’s an even more important time to try your best to take care of yourself. All of the basics that we hear a million times and often push to the back of the line, like exercise and a somewhat balanced diet. Being mindful of the amount of time we spend in front of a screen, distracting us from quiet. We need quiet, if only in little batches. Prayer. Remembering that things could always be worse and we have many things to name as blessings. Above all, I’d remind myself that we are good enough. I struggle with that daily, but it still remains true. We can do our very best and that may vary from day to day. Life is not a lick like I thought it would be and much harder than I ever anticipated. I am humanly unable to get it all right and be as I think I “should”. I will do my best and keep working on taking care of myself, so that I can be my best, and that may not look like what we think it should. Let’s try and remember that for the incoming year. Another worthy reminder is that we will get caught up in the “shoulds” again and again, but being gentle on ourselves and recognizing it earlier each time will help ease it over time.

We welcome you, 2017! New Year, you remind me of a “bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils”, as Kathleen Kelly says in my all-time favorite movie, You’ve Got Mail , and I look forward to a new slate. A new quarter in school. A fresh start. I tend to be a frightened little girl about the future, but I welcome you, nonetheless. Cheers!