“Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them. Hate what is wrong”(Romans 12:9). Why is it so hard to love some people? My mother-in-law, the one who gives me a pounding headache. The one who has the un official authority to say and do anything was ringing the doorbell at my own humble house. I could hear her come in and I smelled the spring air fly through the house like a wave of sweetness. I heard her uneven steps as she navigated over the things on the floor. As I began to apologize for the jeans hanging on the back of the chairs and the shoes scattered around, I forgot about the dishes in the sink. I quickly tried to make it to the sink without her realizing what I was about to do. Her laughter filled the house as the hot water bubbled up and over the soap-filled dish pan. She put her arm around me and reminded me her house was not always perfect. It certainly did not make her a failure as a mother. And she said,” I don’t think that of you.” There is an admiration that comes after we have tried to do another persons job.
When I was a child everything I did had to be perfect. The anxiety that led up to an event was gut wrenching. I did not want ny father to make fun of me or talk down to me. It was my sport and I was sure I knew what I was doing. But I was so used to it. Did he ever tell me good job? I can’t remember. I am sure at times he did. Even now I am the last one out of four girls that he calls if something happens…good or bad. is he embarrassed of me. Does he not trust me? After my introduction to my wild side that REALLY changed things. He did not trust my professional opinion or ask for advise on anything. I always got a lecture on why I needed help or money. There was always a fight. He always had to tell me what I was doing wrong. Not in a good learning experience, but a bad hurtful one. I loved him but now I don’t want to be around him. I needed him. Not to fight, not for him to dominate the conversation but to teach me, to love me. Was I a disappointment? Is that why I am not good at much? Am I teaching my kids that? Am I raising my kids wrong. That is the opinion I get from him.. Why does he hate me so much? How do i break the cycle. Is this why I feel so guilty after I know that I have done some thing wrong? It is like I can never get it back. It will never disappear and it leaves me with a big gushing hole in my heart. Is this why I can’t forgive? It is a horrible feeling to feel as though you are not good at the things a parent expects you to be.
As I go through my seasons I have to remember that God commanded us to love our enemies . I pray that he will teach me how to love difficult people.
Why is depression so hard? It arrises when the truth is not real. It is when you are alone with yourself and you do not like who you are. It is when the weight of the world tumults down on you and the innermost fragments of your head is so broken you do not know how to fix it. All of your emotions are blurred in a big bubble and everything you feel gets stuck together. You cannot differentiate between happiness and sadness. It is a massive sentiment that lingers until one by one the bubbles burst and a revelation unfolds to reveal whatever emotion stands strong that day.
These monsters. Do you mock in that delight? One more day you have my mind and my heart. To live where every step becomes so much to bear. But God keeps me here. There must be a reason I am so weak? I have no one who could understand and I am not strong enough to do this by myself. So, I sit here and I hope God is listening.
You know what feels the worst is knowing that you have screwed up your life. I will never have any opportunities to excel at the gifts I was given. I ruined them.. there is no way to get them back.. I want to be a good person but as a mother there is always something to do, fix or make.
But then all of that changed. I began to yell at the boys for fighting over the XBox because someone was in someone elses room. I threw up my hands in disgust. I sat on the couch and put my face in my hands. The boys quickly came in and in their most serious voice asked me why I was so sad. I don’t know I said I guess I just need extra special love from you now. They brought me a pillow, propped up my feet, brought me my water and with a big hug told me thank you for doing this for us every night.
Nobody knows the struggle I am going through. But It can never be too late to excel at the gifts God has given you. Will it help to talk about my past? Will it help to talk about all the wrong in my life? I like to see stories of recovery don’t get me wrong but I hate to hear condescending people who think they could never go back to being a user. Watch yourself because you will fall again. A changed life gets a person’s attention every time. (Liz Curtis Higgins)
I hate the misology of victim. But, I am a casualty of my mind. My mind does not fully flower and bloom at the sight of happiness. I sit in my gutter and look up at you with excitement at every word you promise. But your promises are fake. They push me down deeper and deeper and i can see no way out. Where did I go? I want so much to be powerful again. I want to love and feel life again. I hear your promises and I know now they are not true. You are laughing at me but in your own sincere way, I want to climb out of this madness but I can’t. What is there to fight for anymore? I feel powerless while everyone around me looks so impressive. I am stuck in this cold wet abyss. Can anybody see me? What is going to happen to me? My voices yell at me, but I count on them so much. I hate them. What is the truth? Why can’t anyone tell me it is going to be alright. Would I believe them?
I am crying out in pain. Why is nobody listening? Why is nobody helping me. I don’t want to be like this but I have isolated myself. I have no true connection with anyone. When my family reaches out for me they are fearful. They act as if I am going to fall apart. Have they seen this in me to many times before? Have I scared them so much with my outbursts that I am a stranger to them? I need them so bad but they have seen this so much. It gets worse the longer it goes on. They love me but I am so angry that they cannot see my pain. Why can’t they feel what I feel? Why are they not like this? I am now changing. I can feel it. My emotions get raw and go somewhere. They hide deep in my head and now I am numb again. My anger turns to rage and my voices are mocking me. Do they want to hurt me or do they just hate me? I push them way back and pull my pleasant disguise forward until the pressure of the pain bursts wide open again.
Lupus and drugs can bring devastating results. Please feel free to contact me or get help if you are experiencing any symptoms of depression.
It was a typical Sunday morning.I came downstairs for breakfast but my husband had already eaten. I was tired and still drunk from the night before so I was mad that he had not waited for me to eat. . He was preparing a bag to leave for work. He normally went out-of-town on Sundays to get set up for his week ahead. His phone rang and he carried it outside. I could see him laughing and enjoying the conversation on the other end of the line. He came back inside and told me he was leaving for work. I was shocked because he normally left around dinner. I started the typical fight and the day dragged on. That night when he called me from the hotel the fight continued. Out of the blue I asked if he wanted a divorce and to my complete hysteria, he said yes. Just like that. He did not want to talk. I did. I begged for some kind of connection but his voice was cold and numb.
So this is how it started. It came on like a gun, only it left me wounded and begging for death. I could not move. I felt a creepy burst of anger clawing its way in but at the same time a guilt of selfishness overcame me so intensely that I wanted to justify every painful feeling and dysfunctional behaviour. But there was no one to justify it to. My side of the story did not matter anymore.
I was unpleasant to be around. I was embarrassing, irritating and basically rude. But I was sad. I was gasping for air. I had strong cravings for anger and bitterness. This lead me to lash out at anyone who stood in my way. Some nights I would lie in bed and call out his name but no words would come out. I felt like I was in a room with no ceiling or door. It had hurtful characters covering the walls and I scratched my way up the wall only to fall back down into the hurtful pit that began to devour me in the first place. The agony paralyzed me for years. I just could not take responsibility for my actions. Bitterness and jealousy impelled me. jealousy attacked my heart. It raided my emotions, motivations and relationships. This can cause an irruption in your relationship with God.
Does God give us more than we can handle? My answer would be yes. 2 Timothy 3:17 says: It matures me and equips me to be ready for every good work. Most of us willing to follow our own hearts not God. Lead your heart to God. The heart can sometimes be untrustworthy. Our problem might have a redefining purpose. It might hurt so bad that the pain will draw you nearer to God. We could also be being tested and purified. Others can see your faith and strength through your distressing times. How are you handling it? It is not up to us to judge what purpose God has laid out . If it hurts, tell him, cry to him. He is the only one who knows why trials have crept into our lives.
What do the children see?
A shaggy blonde boy with dirty fingernails and huge bright blue eyes smiling as he is making a hotdog. His parents are yelling in the background over misbehaviour by another child. He deflects this screaming and runs out to join his friends who are waiting outside to play. Children begin to develop road maps in the brain. Patterns they embed to help them feel safe in times of trauma. These safe places become a place to hide. Children begin to stop questioning and growing because they run to their safe place which offers no way for them to express their own views or ask questions. The children finally separate. They learn no one is in control. The parent’s authority and credibility are now threatened.
What do the children see?
In school we teach children answers to questions with questions. We are taught to criticize books and research. Criticism becomes the center of learning in their educational world. They become very skilled at it. Therefore as a teen we criticize everything and criticism becomes a way of finding answers and questioning beliefs. But on this thin line is also cynicism. It draws conclusions but it trashes beliefs. We must keep them questioning and thinking. Performance is empowering and they must be encouraged to express their own views so their fears are numerous but warranted.
What do the children see?
In Nick Pollard’s book, “Why do they do That”, he talks about the parallels of drugs and pain. We all reach for the Tylenol or heroin in some cases, but when it wears off the pain is greater. Many will try other ways that don’t work. The pain remains and grows. It is much like emotional pain that cannot be taken away by itself. It can be scary and lead to a downward spiral. We must teach our children that all pain cannot be taken away. They must live through it to grow, thrive and transform.
What do I want my children to see?
A love so deep that even in silence they can still hear my voice. I would love to hear your reaction or responses. Please let me know what you think.
When you have Asperger’s you wake up every morning in a strange new world. You scan your room to make sure you still have four pillows. You look to see if your books are stacked neatly the way you left them. Your lampshade is tilted just enough to shine the light at the bedroom door. Your cars you lined up on the window sill are now neatly put in your blue bucket not the red one because that one is for your legos. Ok, it is now safe to climb out of bed. I watch Caleb walk over the dirty cloths and miscellaneous toys to go to the bathroom. It is the one certainty in the morning. He has lists in the bathroom, bedroom and kitchen to help him get ready and prepare him to leave at a certain time. His head stills spins widely out of control. We pick out his cloths the night before but he still forgets to change his underwear. The first time I told him to put on deodorant he proceeded to rub it on his entire body, face and all. He has a bucket with deodorant in it but he doesn’t remember to put it on. He has to make his bed but he forgets. Since he has already checked his pillows, to him his bed is complete. He has to pick up his room but he only sees his buckets are in order and lined up. He does not see the trash and cloths that I see. He forgets to brush his teeth so we have a toothbrush in the kitchen so it will remind him.
Being an Asperger’s mother makes me proud. I love his attention to detail. I love that he puts all of his energy into something he is passionate about. But with the teenage years creeping up on me, new problems are now arising. He has learned hopelessness. He lacks self-confidence and is beginning to act out. He has developed poor problem solving characteristics because he can’t handle situations. He has to be taught through every problem. He needs to know how to handle it and work through it so he can function with confidence and competency.
These children do not have a choice. We are their voices. At times they are truly victims of their circumstances. We are so tempted to lose our patience. But, to have mercy we need to have mercy on ourselves. All they need is encouragement and the love to persevere in any situation.