Lighting a candle for Gram

Always between Christmas and New Years I think of Gram, since that's when her birthday fell. So I am posting today for her again what I had posted at MDC:


I light this candle for my Gram. I grew up as a military brat of divorced parents, so I didn't see her much until I was on my own.

But she was the only one that ever showed me true and unconditional love. It is her seed, planted and watered with her joy for me, that allows me to try and be a better mother to my children; to be what I never knew.

Just a few months before she passed I was able to visit and share the joy of motherhood with her. She met my son and although she never met my daughter, we can see her shining through. Some of the mischievous spirit of my Gram is alive and well in our little pixie.

When my father called to tell me Gram had passed, I just fell to the floor and cried, denying it to myself. I think part of me is still denying it. I haven't really admitted to anyone else how much it hurts to lose the person who loved me so much, understood me and found joy in me like nobody else did.

The Moon

So, last night we spent time as a family looking at the moon. I noticed something. With the naked eye, there is a huge contrast. There are definite shadows and areas of light. Through the telescope, you see more. You see the trenches and the craters and the gouges, marks of events that changed the landscape of the moon. But you don't see the dark and the light.

I feel like the moon sometimes. When I am right with myself and letting God in, moment by moment, I can see the gouges and craters that have made me. I can appreciate them for what they are, even see a small shadow here and there. But there's not the huge demarcation between light and dark. I've been feeling that evenness for almost two months now. I've been amazed at how much of a change there has been. I have also, frankly, been on the verge of terrified that my old self will come back. Knowing that it is likely is why I have been putting my support network into place. The pieces are lined up, but the slowness of life during the holiday season has dictated that they aren't actually in place yet.

So the contrast came back Friday night. I kept trying to hold onto the areas of light, but the shadows kept creeping up. I began feeling like I hated myself. I began to feel a hurt so bad it was physical. At one point, I scratched my arm to try and distract myself. Usually there's a sting and a dull ache after that. It went away too quickly. By the next morning there was no evidence, until I took a shower and the dull sting was there when the water hit. I was relieved to be reminded, but more relieved that while the pain had been just as intense in my heart, my reaction had diminished. I focused on the whole of my landscape, not just my shadows. I went there and managed to come back, maybe not unscathed, but certainly not battle scarred as was so often the case before. My fear had been realized and I moved through it. I walked it out. And that will give me strength the next time. The shadows will always be there, it is just in how I see them and respond.

For a smile, here's a pic P. took of the moon last night through the telescope- it's not great, camera phone pics never are. But the moon shines brightly. Today during church, I noticed during a song that so often the pictures that represent God are of the sun and sunlight. I started thinking the male and female perspective, old traditions, Apollo, the Goddess as represented by the phases of the moon...and I know that for now, to me, God is seen through the moon. The light and dark, the push and pull. The reflection of the sunlight.

Some Christmas Hilarity

Go Elf yourself!
Here's J. Here'sC's elf!

What's the Flip Side?

So, there's a lot of stress going on in my life right now. The totally amazing part to me is that I am not falling apart like I usually do. Oh, I have my moments. But they are not as low as my lows used to be. I am in total amazement and it honestly feels like a little miracle to me. Where are all the self recriminations? the tangible pain inside?

For instance, yesterday was a low day. Sad thoughts followed me around like a cloud of annoying gnats. They annoyed me, there was some small pain, but they weren't the hornets they would have usually been. after awhile, I realized how those thoughts were affecting my attitude, I was getting short with the kids and not doing the chores that needed to be done. So I said a short prayer and took a deep breath, acknowledging that I needed to let go. And I did. The effect was almost immediate. I was smiling and joking with the kids.

Guys, this feels so good. It's like when I have a migraine and it finally goes away. The non-pain I used to take for granted is such a blessed relief. I can't go back to before. I want to hold onto this forever. I am amazed at the miracle that has taken place in me and intend to hold onto it.

There's a bit of St. George in me- and in you too...

So often, my posts about depression have been whining. It takes control of me, and it's easier to let it than to fight it.

You're about to read a very personal confession (yeah- I hold back in my other writings, right?). I hope it helps or gives a ray of light to someone. During one of my evenings of pain, I came across this site. Please share it with anyone you think needs it. I apologize in advance for the mixed metaphors.

Think of depression as a dragon. Traditionally dragons have to be conquered and vanquished. Reading the myths from other cultures and some fantasy novels, they can also be tamed and even companions.

My realization about my chronic depression is that I cannot vanquish my depression totally. But I can tame it. If it touches you, you can too. It may not feel like it now. But at some point you will come to a precipice. You will look down into bottomless pain, or look across and see the edge of hope through the misty distance. I have been near that precipice many times over my life. I have nearly jumped a half a dozen times, but I was not close enough yet to go over the edge.

One day, about a month ago, as I was reeling from a painful experience, I cried alone in the bathroom. It was the hour of the night where you're not certain if it was night or morning. I should have been asleep, preparing for my always challenging day of being a SAHM. But instead I was awake, intense sorrow as my only company. As I wailed soundlessly- a truly horrible sound if you've ever felt it in your heart, I tried to beat the pain out of myself. I had found that if I position my knuckles just right and hit in the right spot on my breastbone, I could cause enough pain to make myself forget just a bit of the pain on the inside. I was tormented, yet trying to keep quiet so my family would not be disturbed. At that point, I truly believed for the first time in Satan.

I don't know what got me to that point. I can't even remember fully why I was so devastated. I have had worse incidents in my life. But there was something about that precipice, that time. After that, I began seeking help. Each time before I had sought out one aspect: faith, therapy, medication. I slowly began gathering all my tools. For me, faith has been a wonderful first stop. It has given me somewhere to turn even when I am alone. Next I sought out therapy. I am still seeking someone to see regularly, but the people I have turned to in the meantime have been invaluable in affirming that not only can I be helped, I deserve to be helped. My next step is the medication. I am hesitant on this one, but I see it as the safety net if the other two become weakened for some reason. When you have a dangerous dragon lunging at you, you need all the possible measures you can take in place.

I have been almost totally honest about my depression in past posts. I have only touched some of the deepest, most shameful aspects for me, but there are there. The intense self hatred, the desire to commit suicide but feeling too scared or loving my children too much to even think of what their lives would be like with the thoughts of what I did and me not there to answer their questions. The wanting to cause myself outward pain in order to reduce the intensity of the inward pain.

Because of how intense this ride has been, it makes this part of it all the more miraculous to me. Two months ago, I would not have been able to see the hope through the distance and the mist. But somehow, getting close enough to the precipice that I could finally jump also allowed me to get close enough to see hope. I am building the bridge as I go. I have confidence that while the going may be terrifically hard and excruciatingly slow, by the time I get to the other side, I will have the tools and strength to tame the dragon of depression if a complete vanquishment is not possible.

Have faith in something. If not in yourself, in something outside of you. It will bring you strength, hope, commitment and maybe one day deliver you from depression.