In Which I Break My Own Rule…

Given the admittedly volatile nature of the internet, I have a rule that I have tried to keep – whether in my blog or on various social media.  That rule is that I will NOT discuss politics.  I have so many friends from so many different and varied paths in life and respect them all and the diversity they bring to my life.  Even when I disagree with them, I pretty much just let it go.  They have every right to their opinion as I do.  And I respect them enough to remember that every experience a person goes through molds and shapes them into who they are today.  I can’t say that if I had lived their life, I wouldn’t view the world around me the same way.

Here’s the thing.  I’ve heard a lot of arguments from a lot of sources over Marriage Equality.  And I just can’t take it anymore.  So if you want to know what I think..read on – and pay attention because I’m only going to say this once!  If you’d be just as happy not knowing… here’s a cute picture of a kitten to squee over:  adorable kittens in 3..2..1…

I’ve heard two main arguments against Marriage Equality:

1.  “But it oppresses my religious rights because the Bible and my ‘insert religious leader’ told me all the gays are evil!”

2. “Marriage is ONLY for procreation.”

Ok, so lets go with the second argument first shall we?  Marriage is not solely for the purposes of procreation.  If it were, then couples where one or both parties are infertile (due to age, medical condition, result of injury, happenstance of genetics, whatever the cause) would not be granted a marriage license.  Also, couples who have exceeded the age of being able to reproduce (or lost the ability to any number of causes) would see their marriages dissolved immediately.  We don’t do that.  So can we please finally leave this argument in the dust of it’s hollow grave?

Now onto the questionably trickier argument.  Allowing LGBTQI individuals the right to a civil(LEGAL) marriage, is NOT going to oppress your religious freedoms.  No one is going to force any church or religious entity to perform or even recognize such a marriage.  After all, there are plenty of religions that already DO perform such unions happily – no one has to force those who don’t want to, to do so.

There is not a single “holy book” that has come handed intact directly from the hands of whatever Diety that you choose to worship that has not passed through the hands of hundreds and even thousands of very human, very fallible, human beings!  By that very progress – got news for you, it’s flawed!  There are mistakes.  Anything produced by human hands will have them.  It’s a fact of life.

But the fact remains, that even if there WERE such a miraculous book, the point is moot.  You see in the USA we have this lovely document called the Constitution of the United States of America.  The first 10 amendments to this document are called the Bill of Rights.  The First Amendment ratified in 1791 reads:

“Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”

For anyone that needs a refresher – this means that there is no official religion of the United States of America.  We allow the free exercise of every religion with none held above another.  That means that EVERY religion – whether it is yours or not, whether you agree with it or not – is allowed to be practiced without interference.  That means that if your religion doesn’t perform gay marriages – guess what?  That’s OK!  BUT… it also means that if another church, of another religion down the road DOES – guess what?  That’s also OK!

Marriage Equality is not a battle to force churches to perform gay marriages.  Really, folks, it’s not.  It’s about a civil, legal, document that allows two people to enter into a contract to spend the rest of their lives together – that gives rights of survivorship to the one who outlives the other, grants the rights and abilities to visit each other in the hospital and make decisions for each other.

Marriage is not a SOLELY religious rite.  It isn’t!  If it were, then Athiests would not be allowed to marry.  And guess what folks – they do!

The LGBTQI community that is asking for Marriage Equality doesn’t want to storm your church.  They want to be granted the same rights and responsibilities under the recognition of the government of the land separate from the control of any one specific religion.  That’s it.

And for those who may see me in church and feel conflicted about what I’ve said here… I’d like to remind you of a few things that might help you work your way around it:

The 11th Article of Faith states:  We claim the privilege of worshiping Almighty God according to the dictates of our own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege, let them worship how, where, or what they may.

(in other words – you don’t get to claim that what you believe has more legal rights than what anyone else believes – no matter how differently they believe)

The 12th Article of Faith states: We believe in being subject to kings, presidents, rulers, and magistrates, in obeying, honoring, and sustaining the law.

(Please see the First Amendment of the US Constitution contained in the Bill of Rights – the US has no official state religion – all religions are granted equal rights to practice – LDS and Pagan and Muslim and even Pastafarian!)

The 9th Article of Faith states: We believe all that God has revealed, all that He does now reveal, and we believe that He will yet reveal many great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God.

(never make the mistake of thinking  you know absolutely everything there is to know about everything – I can promise you, if you do, you’ll be wrong)

D&C 134:9 states: We do not believe it just to  mingle religious influence with civil government, whereby one religious society is fostered and another proscribed in its spiritual privileges, and the individual rights of its members, as citizens, denied.

(Please don’t forget in your passion to see your beliefs put into law, that in doing so you may step on the rights and beliefs of your neighbors who do not believe as you do.  Religious law and Civil laws should remain separate.)

So the next time you consider the arguments about Marriage Equality, I challenge you to view the issues with compassion.  Compassion for those who simply want to protect a love that means more to them than life itself.  Ultimately folks, it’s about love.  Not religion.  Just… LOVE.

Can You Find The Silver Lining?

I haven’t posted here in a while.  There’s been a lot going on, birthdays, graduations, travels, school concerts and soon dance recitals – mixed in with the other multitudes of minutia that make up life (VA appointments, errands, paying bills – you know what I mean).    And I do have things to share about some of those experiences – but they’re still….taking form and finding the right words to write.

So while that continues to gel, I’m going to take a risk.  I’m going to be blunt about something I almost never talk about, not unless you’re part of a very treasured handful of people.  But maybe my sharing it can help give some solid strength to my shaky legs as I travel this path of healing.  And maybe, just maybe, it can help someone else if I share it.  Even if it’s only to know they’re not the only out there – because in the depth of the dark night when you’re battling against your darkest self – you feel very much alone.  Even when you’re not.

For a longer time than I care to admit to, I’ve dealt with various forms of self-harm and self-abuse.  From purposefully starving myself and denying food until even my body gave up and no longer recognized what ‘hungry’ meant.  To actively seeking to cause myself pain.  In very specific and purposeful ways, with the sole intention being to punish myself.  I still fight with it.

Sometimes the punishment was for things I could point at and say ‘I said this’ or ‘I did that’ or ‘I thought “x.”‘  And I’d use those reasons to justify why I deserved it.  Why I deserved not just the pain I was inflicting on myself, but every bad thing that had or ever could happen to me.  I deserved every last bit of it – and none of the good.  A lot of times, I didn’t even need a reason.  My existence was reason enough that I deserved every bit of pain and punishment I could inflict.

No, I’m not a cutter.  I don’t do anything that leaves marks or scars that can be seen (not past a handful of hours).  And chances are – even if you saw me just seconds after I finished  – you still wouldn’t see anything.  I choose the most sensitive and secret parts to inflict the greatest amounts of pain and punishment on.  Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?  I’m not going to go into any details on what I do, that’s not the point here, and I don’t want to give anyone else who is struggling any ideas on things they have or haven’t tried.

Here’s the thing, if you’ve never experience the need – yes, need – to self-harm, you can’t understand the compulsion, drive, urge, very nearly obsession that takes over your brain until you follow through.  And often times, it’s an escalation thing.  One outlet might work for a while, but you get used to it, so you have to find a new way to inflict pain, or a way to intensify it, to get the same, if very temporary, relief.  And it’s an insidious thing.  It sneaks up on you, even when you think you’re strong and doing well.  It attacks when you’re alone, when you’re vulnerable, when you’re not looking.  This graphic below gives a little insight into the cyclic nature of it:

self_harm_diagram

 

I’m very lucky and very blessed.  I have a wonderful inner circle of supportive and loving people who do everything they can to support me, as I battle to end this cycle.  It’s beyond difficult for me to fathom why they do this.  Why they care so much, why they love me so much, why it matters what happens if it’s happening to me.

When I’m at my strongest and healthiest, I may not understand or think I deserve all they give me, but I accept it and am grateful for it.  When I’m at my most vulnerable and sincerely fighting the urge to inflict very real physical pain on myself almost on a heartbeat by heartbeat basis…I have trouble even accepting it.  I don’t deserve it (in my perception of reality – a flawed perception, I understand that on a strictly logical basis, but there it is – logic has no hand in this reality).  I don’t deserve the love, the concern, the support, the tremendous generosity of these so very loving people.   I want to hide from them.  I want to disappear.  I want to become the nothing that I feel like I am.

I’m trying to help you understand the very warped reality, the darkness that my mind lives in during these times, even while I realize that if you haven’t been there – you’ll never fully comprehend the starkness and desperation of it.

Despite all of this, those special few have never abandoned me to my inner demons.  Despite not always understanding.  Despite the heartache that I know I have caused them at the thought of some of what I’ve done.  They have stood by me, and forgiven me time and again – even when I couldn’t forgive myself.  Even as I’ve stumbled and tripped along my way to fixing what is broken within me, to finding a healthy me under it all.   And because of this, I’ve come lightyears from where I once was.

I stumbled again last night.  I was cruel to myself, and I caused myself physical pain.  Not nearly as cruel, not nearly as much pain as I’ve been known to do at my worst.  After  fighting and fighting I gave in, because I was exhausted.  I was tired, and tired of the fight and wanted so badly for the quiet and the relief that usually comes from surrendering.  And after it was all over I was in tears, because that relief never came.  I’d lost that battle.  And for nothing.

But today, with a clearer head, something occurred to me that I need to try to remember more often than I do.  Often times we’re told ‘don’t look back, you’re not going that way’.  And for a good deal of situations, that’s true.  BUT…but…sometimes we do need to look back.  Not to wallow in our past, but to remind ourself just how far we’ve come already – when it feels like we still have so very far to go and don’t have the strength to keep going.  There was a time that I inflicted pain on myself on a daily basis – sometimes multiple times a day or for entire days without rest.

Even counting last night’s stumble, in the past year I’ve only given in maybe a handful of times – in an entire year!  Put into that kind of perspective – I’ve come so very far!!  I may not be where I want to be yet.  But it truly makes me take another look at how far is left to the goal of health, versus how far I’ve already come just to get where I am now.

Now, I know what a healthy mindset is, and can maintain one for long periods of time.  I know the mindset I want to have, who I want to be and am working to become.  And I realized something else.  In not gaining the relief, even temporary as it would have been, the cycle is breaking down.  I may have given in, but it doesn’t mean I’ve failed.  Rather it showed me how far I’ve come, and that my work to fix myself is not for nothing.  I may not be fixed – yet – but the changes are taking effect.  Some of it is beginning to sink in – if slowly and only subconsciously – that maybe I do have a small bit of value.  It has to be, or the relief would have come.

I have no trouble seeing the body as sacred and to be honored and treated gently – for others.  The idea of anyone I love and care about harming themselves as I have done, is horrifying to me.  And yet…that horror is not there when I look at myself.  Someday, I hope it will be.  I’m working to try and see and honor the sacred within myself.  To see my existence as something to be celebrated, not punished.  To see value and worth in myself.  And when I can’t, I try to remember what those I love and trust have said that they see in me.  I rely on their faith and belief in me, when my own faith and belief in myself falters.

It’s been said that you can’t ‘live on borrowed light.’  And you can’t.  But sometimes you need someone else to light your candle when you can’t find that first spark yourself.  Sometimes you need someone else to believe in you and see value and worth in you, before you can see it in yourself.  Sometimes, before you can love yourself, you need someone else to love you even in your broken and flawed self, to know that even you deserve love.  I’ve been so very lucky to have not just one, but a handful of dear people, that have been willing to do just that for me.  Even when I stumble and fall, they still love me, they still support me, and they remind me that it’s not the end of the world.

Losing one battle, does not lose the war, as long as you regroup and fight again.  So, a reminder to myself, and a reminder to anyone else out there fighting their own battles, don’t give up.  Rest, if you need to.  Heal, if you need to.  And then pick up your sword and fight again.  Remind yourself how far you’ve already come, to give you the strength to keep going.

MB-MA123_LRG

It’s Definitely NOT for Everybody

I’ve been seriously struggling with the decision about whether or not to post this.  And I certainly don’t want it mucking up the main page of my blog, because I try really hard to keep this a positive environment and suitable for any age that might stumble across it.  The post that this would have been…is not.  The topic is a difficult one for many people – including myself, the language is stronger than usual for me, and it also requires a “trigger warning”.

Then again, maybe by my not remaining silent, someone else could be helped – or at least know they’re not alone.

To that end, I have created a page that is hidden from the navigation view, where the post now lives.  This page has also been password protected – mostly to make sure you read through all of this and acknowledge that you realize it is of a mature nature.

Posts on this page may  not be suitable for all ages due to topic and strong language.  Also, *trigger* warning.

The password is: mature

Fight or Flight….Which Shall It Be…

“If you’re going through hell, keep going.” – Winston Churchill

I don’t know about most of you, but I take comfort in my daily routines. I don’t cling to them. I can change around the order in which I do things – or even skip some things for a day here or there. But most of the things that are my “daily’s” are things that help me feel more calm and balanced and ready to take on the world – regardless of what my current challenges are. Lately though, I’ve been avoiding them. Massively. And the kicker of it is – I don’t fully know why.

I started my routine about a year or so ago. It grew as new elements got added in until it reached the form it has today – that I’m currently avoiding in it’s near entirety. It would start with some affirmations, proceed to writing three pages of long hand, stream of consciousness type of journaling. The pages were for many purposes. To give me a safe place to vent, to help me be more aware and tuned in to my inner thoughtscape, to help me learn to turn off my inner editor to aid in the other types of writing that I do. And at the end of my day, I would list the things I was grateful for, for that day in one journal, and in another, I’d place an image of something/someone I was grateful for, and roughly three reasons that image invoked feelings of gratitude that day. Those were the nuts and bolts of my routine.

Interspersed in all this was also lots of reading: leisure reading, slush pile reading, beta reading, and self-help and/or spiritual reading. (add in there research for writing topics or other tasks as needed). Then add in trying to make progress on or finish various WIP’s (works – in – progress)  – novels and short stories. And of course, a loving wife to look after (if you know my wife, you know that alone is a full time job with never a dull moment!), furkids to take care of, and the sacred inner circle that I connect with daily. Sprinkle liberally with friends, any attempts at a social life, the more love letters monthly campaign, and various other fun/interesting/stressful challenges that life sees fit to throw my way.

It sounds like a lot, when listed out like this – but it was something that I handled without a second thought. But of late – I’m avoiding it. I’m paying a price for this avoidance. My headspace is less well behaved, my sleep is not as restful, I’m more moody. I know returning to my routine would solve the greater majority of it all. And yet…and, yet… I don’t.

So, what changed? Nothing, and everything. I got hit with an emotional curveball that skyrocketed my stress levels. I caught the latest version of the plague, that had me unconscious more often than not, and led to a lapse in my routine. I got over the plague, but never got back to my routine. Not really. A day here or there, but not the steady daily work that had so marked my last year. A year that was filled with the most growth, the most challenges, and was the most remarkable year I’ve lived yet. Filled with blessings and turns in the road I’d never have anticipated in my wildest daydreams or what-if’s. So why did I stop?

About the best I can figure it out is this. I got scared and I got tired. The final stress curveball that hit me, was the straw that broke this camel’s back. It’s made me scared to hope. Scared to count my blessings for fear that it’ll make it easier to steal them away from me. And as for facing myself in the pages? I haven’t been able to bring myself to do it. Because what I’d have to face is pain and raw and fear. After facing pain and raw and fear for a year, I’m tired. Even knowing all the growth and good that‘s come from it, hasn’t been enough to make me go back. The raw has been too large. The fear has been to entrenched. The pain has been both too old and too new all at the same time. I’ve even avoided this blog – which I’d been doing better about updating on a regular basis.

I have been forcing myself to face and deal with the curveball – with all the new knowledge and wisdom and strength the past year has given me. But it’s taken everything I’ve had and left me feeling like a husk each time. Only to start the process over again a few days later. And I’ve been afraid to look in the mirror that pages provide. Afraid I’d find all that I thought I’d learned about myself were just so many pretty lies. Afraid I’d find the old wreck of a girl I used to be. That I’d only watch myself deteriorate back to that lost little girl. If I didn’t look, then maybe it wouldn’t happen. I could keep up the facade of “ok”, the lie of “fine.”

But I’m not ok, and I’m not fine. I’m scared and scarred. I’m trying to protect myself and yet at the same time lay down my sword and shield. Never before has my old motto of “hope for the best, expect the worst” been more true or harder to bear. I’m scared to hope, and even more scared of what the worst could be. And while I know that this time things are different in very profound ways, memories are wicked and cruel beasts that will cut you to the quick at your most vulnerable and unexpected moments. I know that I’m not alone, that friends, loved ones, and that sacred inner circle are all around me – if I but reach out. And yet….and, yet….my hands are tied.

Others can listen and support and cheer me on, but ultimately only I can walk this road. For good or bad, in some very real ways I have to go through this alone. While it’s nice to know that others think I’m capable. That they believe I’m stronger than I was, and that I’ve “got this.” I don’t have their same confidence. I want to. I’m trying to live up to the vision they have of who I am…and clinging to it, when I can’t see myself at all.

You’d be surprised how often I can’t. I’ve avoided the mirror, scared I’d look and find no one there at all. Worse than a reflection of all the worst that’s in me, I’d find no reflection at all. I haven’t dared hope to see a reflection of the good – to see the reflection those who care about me have assured me is really there. Afraid to find the confirmation that I’ve just had them all fooled all along. And with the confirmation all the good in my life would evaporate along with the reflection until nothing remained in the mirror at all.

But I can’t keep it up. Something’s gotta give. And the truth of it is, I can’t bear to go back to the black pit of depression and all that it brings with it. I’ve never really counted myself a coward, and I’m not going to start now. So foolish at may feel to take the risk of seeing hopes dashed, I’m taking a deep breath, closing my eyes, swallowing hard and believing in the hope and faith and love and good that those I love and trust have told me is there.

Tomorrow I go back to my routine, and face what pains are waiting for me. I’ll patch and bandage my cuts and bruises, and return to fight the good fight. I’ve avoided and avoided and gotten nowhere. Let the blows fall where they may. Better battered and bruised and true – authentic and alive – than to return to being little more than a wisp of a ghost, vanishing in the morning’s light. I’m going to avoid avoiding. Sew up these last few stitches, pick back up my sword and shield, and then, dear friends, once more into the breach. Pray for me?

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