You Lose Some, You Win Some

Today was one of those rare days when absolutely everything went even better than I could have imagined.  And that's important because last night I couldn't sleep due to my old nemesis anxiety telling me every possible story of every terrible thing that could happen today.  And anxiety continued with its stories this morning.  I didn't sleep much last night and then woke up still anxious.  I broke out in hives.  I was jittery.  I was nervous.  Anxiety was winning.

And here's the thing.  I have anxiety.  I have ALWAYS had anxiety.  I can remember stories growing up when my anxiety was completely out of control, but no one gave it a name back then.  No one said, "Hey Kelli, this is just anxiety telling you a story.  Let's see what we can do about this."  Nope.  So I didn't understand it.  And the world was scary.  And it just kept getting scarier.  Especially after I had kids and suddenly had these two amazing human beings to take care of.  Holy smokes, did anxiety enjoy that!!  

But for the past ten years (TEN YEARS!) I have been working and working and working on my anxiety.  I have done the super hard work.  I have processed through the causes of my anxiety.  I have been furious.  I have been heartbroken.  But I have come to an understanding of where my anxiety comes from.  I have also come to the understanding that it will never truly leave me.  It is part of me.  However, I have learned how to manage it pretty well.  I have learned how to let go.  I have learned, and truly believed, that there is no control in this world and how to work with that.  I don't always like it.  But I have the tools.  

Nonetheless, you can do all your work.  You can work your damn ass off for years and years and years.  You can be a mental health counselor and help others through their own anxiety.  And then something happens in your life, like your dad dying, and everything you thought you knew gets turned on its head.  And you realize that you knew how to manage the anxiety you knew then.  You did all that work.  You met anxiety eye-to-eye and told it that it wasn't going to rule your life.  And then your life shatters.  Everything you knew to be true changes and anxiety jumps in and takes over.  And it has new stories.  It's ramped up its game.  And you dumped your tool belt when your world spun upside down.  Your tools are scattered all over this new path.  And the path is dark.  And you can't find your tools.  And anxiety knows this.  And looks you in the eyes and says, "Welcome back, old friend, I have stories to tell you."  And they're scary stories.  And detailed stories that, in the dark, seem like they could actually be real.  And they paralyze you with fear.  Fear that you thought you had beat.  That you did beat.  But it's back.  And it's bigger.

And anxiety starts winning.  It wins in the dark.  Sometimes it wins in the daytime.  Like last night and this morning. 

And today, I had two choices.  I could let anxiety win again and disappoint my son.  Or I could fight back.  Anxiety is a familiar opponent.  But those tools...I couldn't find my tools.

However, the one thing that trumps anxiety (almost always) is my kids.  And anxiety knows this.  So, it upped its game.

So, I decided I had to do the same.

Because here was the deal...which is going to sound like nothing for those of you who have never had anxiety.  My son wanted to go to the Space Needle for his birthday.  We had planned to go Monday, but the weather turned on us.  He really didn't want to go in the rain so I promised him that if the weather cleared at all this week, we would go.  And that if that didn't work out, we'd go on the first clear day when I wasn't working.  

And then my week went on.  And I kind of let the whole idea go because the long-term weather forecast wasn't looking too promising.  And then, mid-day yesterday, it suddenly looked like the weather was clearing up for today.  And not just clearing up, but looking pretty beautiful.  Out of nowhere.  And suddenly, the Space Needle was back on.  And it wasn't just the Space Needle, but it was taking the foot ferry to a bigger ferry to Seattle and then walking to to the Space Needle and then going UP the Space Needle and doing it all again on the way home.  All stuff I had never done before.  

And it didn't give me time to prepare, and anxiety took advantage.  And it hit me hard last night.  Oh, if I could only tell you all the stories it told me, but this blog post is already long enough.  Suffice it to say, there were simple things like getting lost, to really awesome things like earthquakes and terrorist attacks.  In not one of these stories was there ever anything like, "Hey, the weather is going to be nice, you might actually have fun."  Nope.  Anxiety doesn't play like that.

This morning I found myself nearly in tears.  Christopher was still sleeping and I was seriously wondering if I was going to be able to go through with the day.  But there was NO way I was letting that kid down.

So, off we went...only to not be able to find a parking spot at the foot ferry.  Great.  "Just the beginning of what was sure to be a long day", anxiety reminded me.  We drove around for about 20 minutes and were just getting ready to drive to the main ferry dock when a spot, right up front, opened up.  And that, my friends, was the worst thing that happened all day.  

From that point on, the universe graced me with peace.  Did I have moments?  Absolutely.  Did I push right through them? Yep.  Our first foot ferry experience was fun, the Bremerton/Seattle ferry was smooth and beautiful.  We planned to walk to the Space Needle and then realized we could grab the monorail and cut our time in half.  We got to the monorail and jumped right on without any wait.  And then the Space Needle...That big, scary, Space Needle.  And it was absolutely fine.  AND...I had fun.  And Christopher LOVED it.  And then our trip back, we jumped right back on the monorail, didn't get lost at all.  Made it right back to the ferry, had another lovely ride back and a quick foot ferry ride home.

  

It was, quite honestly, the perfect day.  The weather could not have been more beautiful, especially for January 14th.  And there was not one little kink in the day except for the delay in parking.  

And right there in front of me...all day long...my path lit up.  I found many of my old tools.  Not all of them...but found enough to get me through.   

And my son looked at me and said, "This was the BEST day!"  

Last night, anxiety won.  

Today, I won.  

This doesn't mean anxiety and I don't have another long road ahead of us.  But I'll keep finding my tools.  And I'll build new ones for this new and improved anxiety.  And I'll keep doing my work.  Tonight.  Tomorrow.  Forever.  Because I'm human.  And I have anxiety.  And some days anxiety will still win.  But not without a fight.  And not today.

Today, I took a little piece of me back.  A piece I have missed for the past several months.  

And this is what it looked like:

Butterflies and Rainbows

I had a heck of a time coming up with a title for this post.  Until I wrote the very last sentence.  You'll have to muddle through all the stuff before that to understand.  :)

Three years ago, I started a ritual that I have carried on at the end of every year.  I do two things.  I get a Goddess Reading from Amy Palko (http://www.amypalko.com/) to determine which Goddess will accompany me over the next year and I do a lot of meditating and reflecting over what word feels like it will be my core word for the next year.  I also spend some time reflecting on last year's Goddess and words. 

In 2015 my Goddess was Gyhldeptis, the Goddess of Harmonic Agreement.   In my reading, it stated that "The emphasis of your year will lie in communication in order to find common ground  This will represent a move away from fragmentation, divisiveness, and discordance.  And just as you address this unification at the level of the heart, mind, body and soul, it'll be reflected in your outer world.  Look for mirrors in the situations around you, and bring you ability to invite harmony into play - you'll be doing a favor for yourself and for others!"  Gyhldeptis brought with her the words Peace, Unity, Union, Harmony, Coherence and Balance.  And then the word I chose for my year (or that chose me) me after much reflection was Soar.  

Interestingly, at the end of 2014, I left a difficult situation.  A situation where I did NOT feel in harmonic agreement.  The end of 2014 was rough as I was grieving the loss of something that had been important to me.  But I knew it was time to move on.  Early 2015 (really for the first 5-6 months) absolutely felt like a unification of my heart, mind, body and soul.  And I most definitely felt myself soaring (not to mention, I actually DID soar...on an airplane...and survived with most my mental faculties intact.  ;) )

The second half of 2015 was a different story, but I believe it was imperative that I had that first half in order to prepare myself for the second half. 

So, here at the beginning of 2016, the Goddess that presented herself is Psyche.  Which, honestly, made this 80s girl laugh...because...really?  Psyche?  It felt like my goddess reading was taunting me.  As though I wasn't going to really get a goddess this year.  Joke was on me.  

And then I started reading about Psyche and it all made sense.  Google her if you want all the nitty gritty details, but bottom line: "Together, the tasks taught Psyche discernment (seeds), empowerment & wisdom (fleece), distance/objectivity (spring water), and the art of saying no (Underworld).  Upon achieving success in each of these tasks, Psyche was changed into a goddess and reunited with Eros.  When we develop these attributes in ourselves, we find that we can manage Aphrodite's overwhelming energy a bit better.  We can stand firmer in our sense of self.  So much packed in here, right?  Trust, autonomy, love, sovereignty, metamorphosis.  Psyche teaches us how not to lose ourselves to our emotions, how to retain a sense of perspective that allows us to continue to make conscious choices, and how to survive a metamorphosis of self."

"Metamorphosis of Self"  <--------- That feels like my 2016.

Psyche brings the words Initiation, Love, Growth, Metamorphosis.  

Initiation into the world of adult orphans.

Growth and Metamorphosis as I learn to make my way through this new world of mine.

Love - well, it's all love, isn't it?  But I feel strongly this is Love for myself this year.  That it is time I start taking care of me.  My parents are gone.  My kids are getting older.  It's time to put a little more focus on myself and give myself a little (a lot?) more love.  

But then came my word.  I did the 5 day process I always do.  I did a lot of meditating.  A lot of reflection.  And it came down to two words.  And I simply could not feel one of them coming in louder than the other.  So, I decided there's no rule here.  I don't HAVE to have one word.  Maybe my challenge this year is to break out of that old mold and let myself have both the words that presented to me.  I was pretty clear that Expand was the first one.  And it felt right.  It tied right into that Metamorphosis and it feels as though now is time for me to expand my wings.  My business is growing.  I have a new satellite office.  My world is expanding.  But then the other word wouldn't let go.  And it was just as loud.  

Nourish.  

I didn't want that word.  I wanted it to be Expand.  Expand sounded like moving forward.  Nourish is not something I am good at for myself.  But Nourish wouldn't leave as so I accepted it as my co-word.  I can Expand and Nourish at the same time.  In fact, that is likely the best way to do both.  Together.  Both words have much to teach me.

And then there's this: http://www.whatsyourgrief.com/avoidance-in-grief/ 

And THAT is likely another blog post all in its own.

Nonetheless, it is VERY clear that I have been doing a beautiful job of avoidance.  Here I am, Miss Transparent.  Miss "This Is How I Grieve".  And it seems that I have found my way to almost complete avoidance.  

Well, maybe that's a little hard on myself (back to that nourish and self-love here...). I AM grieving.  I have felt a LOT.  And I don't stop it when it comes.  But somewhere along the way, I put up a wall to stop the stuff from coming.  I think it felt like it was getting too hard.  It felt like more than I actually could manage.  And the little girl inside of me sort of ran and hid.  She (and I) have lost the protection we were accustomed to.  And it feels lonely and scary in this world right now.  

At the end of my two weeks of sleep-deprivation with a sick kid, I had an epiphany.  Because sleep deprivation tears your down and doesn't allow you the energy to keep those walls up.   Life feels incredibly fragile to me right now.  And I really feel like everyone I love is going to die and leave me.  Quite literally.  And that's a rotten feeling.  So, I found a way to avoid it.  Not consciously, but I found a way without realizing it.  

So, what does all this mean?  

Who the hell knows?

All I really know is that I get through my days.  Honestly, most of them I get through pretty well.  At least if I'm working.  Have I mentioned that I LOVE my job?  (Although it might offer me a little of that avoidance these days... )

The nights are hard.  But the sun keeps coming back up.  

Metamorphosis is hard.  Have you ever watched a caterpillar spin a cocoon and the work it takes to break out of that cocoon as a butterfly?  Nothing easy about it.  But they don't complain, they just do it.  

2016 doesn't look to be an easy year, but... Expand, Nourish, Metamorphosis...those can't be all bad.  Right?

Right?  Anyone??  ;)

Hard...but not all bad.  Although, admittedly, I'm human and I'm kind of tired of hard.  I'll keep my eye out for the easy moments along the way and hope to catch one here and there.  And I'll remind myself that no storm lasts forever.  And some of the hardest storms provide the most beautiful rainbows.

Here's to butterflies and rainbows!  :)

New Year 2016

Today would be my dad's 79th birthday.  

Today is the first New Years Day that I can ever remember when I didn't see my dad, or at the very least, make a phone call.  New Years has always been an important day in my life.  It was also my grandma's birthday (my dad's mom).  It's just always been more than just a holiday in my life.  

Today has been odd.

I had originally planned to go to the cemetery, but we're on day 19 of a miserable cold in our house and I was up again most of the night with a coughing kid.  I feel like a mom with a newborn and driving a car doesn't even feel safe right now.  I'm tired and run down and raw.  So I stayed home.  

This cold has allowed me to have a distraction over Christmas and now New Years.  But the reality of all of it has settled in today.  

Having said that...It's a new year.  A fresh slate laid out in front of me.  I'm ready to move forward.  My parents would not, in any way, want me to stop my life.  That doesn't mean I don't grieve.  It means I grieve when I need to grieve and then I keep moving forward.  I have ideas for this year.  Of course, I know well enough now that "plans" are simply "plans".  I have no control over where life takes me.  I only have control over how I handle what life throws my way.  

Right now, I am exhausted and ready for this cold to leave my home.  But...I have no control over that.  I have to ride it out.  Which means putting my new years plans on the back burner until we're all healthy again.  It's making me frustrated.  And in the dark, in the middle of the night, I don't think clearly.  And my brain LOVES to tell me stories.  And right now, I'm simply doing the best I can.  

What I know is that 2015 did a number on me.  And I feel the weight of the past six months.  But what I also know is that every day, I still get up and move forward.  And that's progress.  

But I'd really like the universe to back off just a bit.  I need some breathing room.  I need my family (and myself) to be healthy.  I don't know how much longer I can go at this pace.  And I'm not afraid to admit it.  I'm not a robot.  I'm human.  A human who is grieving.  And exhausted.  And who really needs a break.

Maybe that break will come tonight.  Maybe not.  

But come tomorrow, I will have survived my first holiday season without both my parents.  And I will have survived dad's first birthday without him.  That's something.  

And then I'll take another step.  In search of that break.

Grief Dares Us to Love Once More

"Grief dares us to love once more." ~ Francis Weller, The Wild Edge of Sorrow.

THIS.  This sort of screamed at me out of this book.  This is what grief does.  It challenges (dares) us to go on, to continue to love while knowing so deeply the pain of loss.  We can choose to stop loving, or we can accept grief's dare.  

But there are days when you are in the throes of grief when loving feels terrifying.  When you are walking a constant tightrope of continuing to live and love and walking through the hot coals of grief.  Sometimes one foot is on both sides.  A soul split.  A heart both filled with love and breaking from loss.  It is an almost constant dichotomy.  

This one sentence screamed to me because this is my daily challenge right now.  It is why my anxiety is at the highest it's been in at least a decade.  It's why my heart skips beats now and then.  It's why sleep is elusive. It's why a bad cold in my kid can ramp me up to extreme levels of concern.  Because I know how fragile life is.  I know how one day can change everything.

And grief dares me to keep going.  To keep believing in the miracle of every day.  To keep loving through grief.  

And some days (and lots of nights), it's terrifyingly hard not to let grief win.  To not let the pain win and take over.  But grief and I have been here before.  I have a love/hate relationship with it.  

And I know that this is the deepest of grief journeys.  Choosing, every day, to love again.  

Setbacks are Part of the Journey

So, I'm just going to say it.  I am not in a great place right now.  I am so, so tired.  I feel like a mom with a newborn.  I haven't had a full night's sleep in over two weeks.  And I've had a few nights of getting less than 2 hours total.  It's a great reminder for me as I'm working with new parents.  Sleep deprivation can make you crazy.  

Sleep deprivation takes down your defenses and allows your head to tell you stories.  Old stories.  Stories that are no longer true.  But without your normal defenses, it's hard to remember that you've moved beyond those stories.  

I'm raw.  I'm at the point where even when I am lying in bed exhausted, instead of sleeping, my brain just spins stories.  Scary, dark stories.  And all my tools, all my knowledge, all my understanding struggle to fight through those stories.  

I have two sick kids.  One who I took to the ER at 3am the day after Christmas.  The Emergency Room!  The last time I took a kid to the ER was when my oldest was 20 months old and he had pneumonia.  That was 15 1/2 years ago.  But there I was, the day after Christmas, at the same emergency room where I took my dad 3 months ago.  And I was there because I had a kid who was struggling to breathe.  All the while, I'm sick too. Not cool, universe.  Not cool at all.  

But then I thought we were on an upswing and I was looking forward to returning to work for a couple of days this week.  Until 2am this morning when the cycle of not breathing started all over again.  Christopher actually asked me to sleep on the downstairs couch to be near him.  That's the first time I've had a kid "need" me in a long time.  But it was also pretty scary.

And so I spent a couple of hours contacting every single client scheduled this week and clearing my calendar.  And that is super hard for me.  I have a very strong work ethic.  I have a strong responsibility to my clients.  But I have an even stronger responsibility to my family.  Especially my children.  And I would tell every single one of my clients to choose their family first.  Once again, I have to walk my talk.  There was, of course, no question that this was the right choice.  But sometimes the right choices are still hard ones.

So, today I'm home.  Tired.  So.Very.Tired.  Our naturopath is out of the office until tomorrow, but thankfully, the local naturopathic clinic in town got Christopher in late this afternoon.  We are pretty sure we know what's going on.  We just don't know how to stop it.  Hopefully we'll get some answers on that today.  I don't know how much longer I can do this.  I don't know how much longer my body goes before shutting down.  I don't know how I will get well until my kids are well.  

And I'm so frustrated.  I was finally finding myself again.  I had established a good meditation and workout practice.  I was finding my strength and endurance again.  And now I feel broken again.  My body is beat.  I don't have the energy to do anything.  The only time I've been out of the house and have seen other people since I left work last week was our trip to the ER.  My house is a disaster area of leftover Christmas and boxes of cold treatments and kleenex.  It's wearing on me, but there's no energy to do anything about it.  

Not to even mention the grief that I haven't had time to feel this holiday season. Or the fact that my dad's birthday is coming up in 4 days.  

This is hard.  The world I'm living in right now is exhausting and isolating and really, really hard.  

But setbacks are part of the process.  This means there is something good on the horizon.  I just wish I knew when.  It feels like it has just been one hit after another since October 3rd when my dad was admitted to the hospital.  I want to smile.  I want to laugh.  I want have fun again.  Of course, I know I will.  I just wish I knew when.  

And I know I'm not alone.  Many are suffering this year.  Many are suffering right now.  And we'll all get through it.  It's just hard right now.  So, if you're reading this and things are hard for you too, please know you're not alone.  And that out of these hard times come better days.  And all we can do is continue take things one step at a time.  

Do You Ever Wonder....

Do you ever wonder about the people who have come through your life, how you met them, and how important they were...or are...to parts of your life that you could never have imagined? 

No?

Just me?  ;)

I hope some of you do this too.

I've been thinking about it a lot lately.  

I was thinking about this before a package showed up on my doorstep yesterday from my very first doula client from 15 years ago.  A care package to let me know she was thinking about me in my grief.  

15 years ago, I had a 2 year old son.  My youngest son didn't even exist on this earth yet.  So much life has happened in 15 years.  And yet, had I not had my first son, taken the childbirth class I took, hired the doula I hired who empowered me to see something in me I couldn't see...had none of that happened, I would never have taken a doula training, I would never have met this couple, I would never have shared three births with them, they would never have helped me refinance a house and purchase two others, and that package would never have showed up on my door with the most lovely card that said the exact words I needed to hear in that moment.

And if I had never hired that doula, and become empowered, and done that doula training and had I never gone to that birth, I may never have fallen in love with the birth world the way I did.  I likely would have never trained as a childbirth educator and gone on to teach childbirth classes at a hospital where I met my husband who was my rock during both my parents' deaths.  I'm not sure how I would have handled either of those deaths without him. Not to mention, I love him and can't imagine my life without him.  Period.

And had I not become a doula, I would have not met one of my friends...and likely may not have maintained such a close friendship with another friend....because we were all doulas together.  Those two friends spent the night with me in my dad's apartment the night before he died.  Those are true friends.  And the other people who offered to spend the night with me were also people I met through serendipitous ways.  I was surrounded by love and support throughout my dad's dying process by so many people that I met through so many different ways.  

Had I not had the doula I had who empowered me in birth, I may not have felt as empowered as a mother to make the choices I made.  I may not have reached out to strangers on the internet on mom boards looking for support.  I am still friends with several of those women.  And I have never met them face to face.  But I would 100% call them friends.  We've all been through a lot together and have been a support to one another.  All our kids are nearly grown now and we're still friends.  I have learned so much from all of them.

I'm not really a believer in coincidences.  I believe things happen as they are supposed to.  But it's truly fascinating to sit and think about how one decision spawns others.  And in making decisions, people come in to one's life, exactly when they are needed.

The day I signed up for a childbirth class in Seattle ultimately resulted in a package showing up on my door yesterday.  Had I chosen another class...EVERYTHING in my life could have been different.  Of course, if my dad had chosen to take a transfer to Georgia when I was in 7th grade, my life would have been completely different.  Every day, we all make decisions, never knowing, or often never even considering, whose life may be affected and what might come from those decisions years and years later.

Life is FASCINATING.  And grief makes you think. And ponder life.  And loss.  And friendship.  And love.  And death.  

And in that...there is beauty in this whole grief thing.

Thank Goodness for New Days

My last post was a rough one.  It was real.  But it was rough.  And I promised to be transparent so it's important to share the rough stuff.  But it's just as important to share the good days...or weeks.  And this has been one.  

After what was definitely a rough weekend, it's nice to be able to say that the rough weekend was followed by a good week.  I mean, like any week, it had its ups and downs, but here I am on Friday and I'm feeling good.  Better than I have felt in some time.

And here's what I attribute that to...

1) Time.

It has been 41 days since my dad died.  That's not a lot.  And I still have a LOT of work to do.  I've got this whole year of firsts to get through.  Really, the grief work is just beginning.  BUT...time DOES help.  I still have a moment every night where I remind myself to pick up the phone and call dad and then am immediately reminded that he's gone.  Every night.  That stinks.  But it also reminds me of how close we were.  And that gives me some peace.  I quite vividly now can see him well up with tears when he would tell people how grateful he was for me.  He said, quite often, "she is a wonderful daughter".  When dad first died, I was carrying a lot of guilt...I wondered if I could have done more.  Could I have stopped this from happening?  Truly...a whole stinking lot of guilt.  It's still there.  It's going to take time to work through it.  But 41 days later, I can more clearly see how close we were and that he knew I was there for him.  Until the very end.  

2) Being honest with my feelings and feeling everything that needs to be felt, no matter how much I may not want to feel the hard stuff.

I have felt ALL the feelings.  Whenever they come.  I feel them.  Whether I like it or not.  I'm not holding anything in.  I really feel this is a huge step in the grieving process.  And may be the hardest step.  We avoid pain in American culture.  Sometimes at all costs.  And I believe, wholeheartedly, that that's what holds us back.  That's what makes grief seep into our bones and store itself there...sometimes for ever.  And it comes out in other ways.  In illness.  In physical pain.  I refuse to let that happen.  I'm feeling it NOW.  I'm letting the grief fall in tear after tear after tear.  I will always miss my dad.  But I will not let grief store itself inside of me.  I will feel it.  Today, tomorrow, 5 years from now, 10 years from now...whenever it shows up.  I will meet it head on and I will feel what needs to be felt.  

3) Validation

This week, I had coffee with a very good friend.  My only close friend (who is not family) who has lost both her parents.  Sitting with her and chatting about the experience was so beneficial for me.  The validation of the complexity of this loss was immeasurable for me.  One day, I hope I can give the same validation to someone else.  

4) Meditation

On my week of bereavement leave, my goal was to meditate every day and get my regular meditation practice going again.  I cannot explain enough how important this has been for me.  I have kept it up and meditate almost daily (didn't over the holiday weekend).  It has been so healing and has given me so much more clarity than I had without it.  Through meditation I have been able to find a way to start moving forward instead of being stuck in my grief.  It has been huge for me.

5) Working Out

In conjunction with the meditation, the working out has helped me start connecting with my physical body again.  And how strong it is.  It hasn't given up on me.  Even when I gave up on it.  It feels good to be reconnected and through meditation and working out, I've found new goals for myself that give me something to focus on outside of grief.  This is also a big step.

A few weeks ago (heck, just last Sunday), I felt so stuck in my grief.  It felt like quicksand that I couldn't claw my way out of.  I know it's very likely I will be there again.  There's still lots of work to do.  But I also know that the steps I have taken to take care of myself will help me remember that there is always another day, another hour, another moment.  I will not be stuck forever.  Sometimes it's important to stop and sit with grief.  And other times, it's important to take a step forward.  

On Sunday I said I was not taking any steps.  I was not going to face the hot coals for a while.  This week I feel like I walked over several of them.  

Today I am decorating the house for the holidays.  I don't expect that to be tear-free.  But I expect that I can put on some holiday music and enjoy the experience, for the most part.  That is BIG.  

So, here's to new days, self care, and to taking a few steps forward.  :)