tennessee

The Universe

/ Lynne / Leave a comment

My view of the world around me has changed over the last few years.  I let others influence how I felt just by not daring to use my own voice.  It’s really easy to let that happen. You hear someone speak or read an article and on the surface, you may agree with it. You may like what that article or blog says and repost it, share it in some way or even reblog it.

The problem with sharing on other people’s viewpoints is that soon you give up your own personal identity.  We often find that it is easier to let someone else speak for us because then we can say “Well I never really said that,” but if we are honest with ourselves on some level we allowed that article or blog to speak for us.

I am delving pretty deep here so stick with me.

Not long ago in a country not so far way a man began to speak for some of the people, and when those that didn’t believe in what that man was teaching they just lowered their heads and tried to keep from being noticed. This led to the man gaining more influence and more power and the more he had the more monstrous he became. This man was an artist and a writer and had a strong view that things in his country needed to change, he felt that his way was the best way to regain stability in his country.

People kept their heads down and minded, what they thought, was their own business. Soon their neighbors and shopkeepers and friends began to disappear. Not wanting to disappear themselves they kept quiet and were kept in a fearful state.

Soon people had to carry documents with them at all times that told those in charge just who they were. If you had no documents you disappeared, sometimes never to be seen or heard from again.

Now there were people that stood up and did not let this man or his followers dictate what they did. They risked their lives to help many others. Wishing every day they could do more.

At the end of this madness, over 11 million people were slaughtered. Brillant men and women whose lives were snuffed out never to be able to share that brilliance with the world. Musicians, doctors, lawyers, politicians, mothers, fathers, sons and daughters were torn from their families and lost their lives.

The people in this country said after “If I had only known, I would have done something.” If those that watched boxcars filled with the 11 million people had looked up and paid attention and had stood up as their neighbors were dragged from their homes than and only then, the world might be a different place today.

That was in Germany if you didn’t already figure it out, during World War II.

Sadly, in the United States today people just over a year ago were so wrapped up in wanting change that they only listened to the slogan “Make America Great Again” that they didn’t care who was behind it, or what that actually meant. The candidate was a smooth talker and was like Teflon nothing negative stuck to him. It all just seemed to slide right off and somehow he came out on top of it all.

We now have families creating back up plans and escape routes and carrying their papers with them in case INS shows up and raids their place of work or the bus they are riding on or the school they are attending.  See it doesn’t matter if you are from a family that has been here for generations and is natural citizens because you look a certain way or from a certain heritage or coloring, you are a suspicious person and subject to search and seizure or arrest till you can prove you are here legally.

The fear-mongering that is going on is no different than in Hitlers Germany no so long ago.  Families should not have to have back up plans or contingencies or be renting lockers in bus stations with “go bags” in case they have to flee.

How is this “Making America Great Again” how is this even close to being great? How did we come full circle and let this happen? Yes, we let it happen we stood by and decided that our voice wasn’t going to be loud enough to change anything so we stayed home and didn’t vote because there was no one good enough to vote for. We have let the two party system tear our nation to shreds. We have handed criminals the keys to the country and have let them run amuck. All the while saying well there is nothing that I can do, my voice, my vote, my opinion doesn’t matter.

See that is what the problem with America is. Those that oppose the criminals feel oppressed and held down with no voice and no power. But I say that is not true.  We have seen hundreds of thousands of women from different backgrounds, liberal, moderate, conservative step up and step out and create a movement to be heard. We have also had those women criticized for marching and protesting and asking for the freedoms they already have. Just because you do not feel oppressed does not make these women any less than you.

This is the time where your voices are needed the most, this is the time to use your social media to blow the algorithms to shreds by changing the conversation by letting your voice be heard. It matters, so much so that we cannot let those voices be smothered and shamed.

How do you do this? How do you find your voice? You read not just one article, one tweet, you take the time and you dig and you dig and you figure out where you stand and when you find it you stake claim to it and you shout it from the top of the mountains for all to hear.

Once voice becomes many and many voices can become a movement and a movement can make our future and the future of our nation and our global community a better place.

TL;DR Find your voice, stand up for those that are being silenced and help where you can, doing what you can with what you have. Don’t let those without a voice disappear because you were too busy following the Kardashians instead of the great world around you.

Existentialism in a Nail Shop.

/ Lynne / Leave a comment

So we are just two days from Surgery.  I keep running things over in my mind. Like who do I need to talk to, what amends to I need to make in case the surgery goes sideways and things don’t end up the way we hope.

I know they do thousands of these surgeries everyday across the world. This is my first open major surgery. While the fear has abated a bit it still lingers.

I had an amazing experience yesterday. I had to get my acrylic nails taken off for surgery because they need the O2 sensor to read accurately. So after a yummy bowl of Pho from Love, Peace & Pho here in South Nashville….so good! Then I went next door to the nail place and had my nails taken off.

The woman that was working on me seemed to notice that I was gloomy and kept asking what was wrong. I assume thinking I was not enjoying my manicure after the removal of the acrylic. I told her the short version of what was going one and she took her mask off and stopped what she was doing and told me about her sister who is also a manicurist and about how one of her clients had brain cancer and had a 1% chance of survival after surgery. She said the client told her sister goodbye but if she survived she would be back. Her sister received a phone call two days later, she had to have someone translate but it was the client calling to tell her she was okay.

She then told me a story of a woman in her country with no insurance that ended up with cancer as well and was okay, she told me I was lucky to be in the US with the excellent medical care and the amazing doctors and that she could see that I was a strong woman and a good woman and that strong good women are rewarded and taken care of. She said your grandmother and mother were strong too. (Never told her anything about them) She said I will see you when you get better for surgery and then…

She stopped talking and looked at me directly in my eyes as if reading my soul and said to me “I don’t know what you believe, God, Buddha, what ever, I say to Buddha every night thank you for my life and my child and my job and all that you have blessed me with. Even if you don’t believe in anything just talk. Just say what you are grateful for and you will be fine.”

It was such a powerful experience there was nothing in the room but the two of us for that moment two strangers. One comforting the other. I began to tear up, it was as if a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It was as if this stranger had been tasked that day to remove the fear from my mind. Sure I’m still worried but as for being terrified of dying and leaving this world, this life that is so undone, I’m lighter, I can breath.

I may be in state of flux regarding religion but I do believe that there is something that binds this world together that brings things to and away from us for some reason. I believe that things happen right when they are suppose to happen. I don’t have a name for what it is. You may and that is fine but for right now I’m not sure and that’s okay I’m allowed to have this existential exploration of what I do and do not believe. I believe we all have the right to believe as we choose or right to not believe or whatever. We do however need to support each other in those choices and beliefs even if they are not shared.

Who would have thought and I would find peace and comfort from a Vietnamese Manicurist?

So I guess that’s that…It’s not fair.

/ Lynne / Leave a comment

Well the visit with the oncologist was long and informative and exhausting all at the same time. It boils down to this.

I have a 6 inch cyst on my left ovary, yup you read that right six inches.  It is pushing my bladder and my uterus out of position which has been causing some auxiliary problems that I just thought were part of getting older.

The surgery will remove both ovaries, both fallopian tubes, my uterus and my cervix. They will be doing an open incision because they want to remove everything in tact so that they can do a frozen dissection and test for any other pre cancerous/cancerous cells.

I will be spending 4 to 5 days in the hospital afterwards and then 6 to 8 weeks on home rest after that.

Good news is that I will have plenty of time to complete my last three classes, bad news I won’t be able to do anything much.

We were hoping to keep one of my ovaries so that we could harvest eggs and possibly use a surrogate but the percentage of having viable eggs is less than 20% so adoption it is for us.

I’m sad, angry and ready to shout at the world it’s not fair. Because to be honest it’s not.

My husband and I have stable income a beautiful home and deeply desire to have a family of our own. Nieces and nephews are great but it’s just not the same.  Why is it that those that do not have these things can pop kids out seemingly on a whim?

I believe in choice and accountability for your actions but it’s just not fair. When I think about all the babies that are lost to abortions or not wanted or harmed by their “parents”.  Especially when their are loving couples that can provide all the love and support for these children. How do we live in a world where children are abused and tossed away so effortlessly?

When did it become okay for human life to become disposable? AGAIN and I can’t stress this enough what you decide to do with your body and the things that go in and come out of it is your business and your choice. I have no right to tell you what is right for you but for those of us that don’t have a choice it is very painful. It crushes our very souls. It weighs us down and makes us want to rip a new one in the fabric of society.

At the end of the day I will take my meds, put my cpap on and lay down and go to sleep and wake up in the morning with all these feelings bubbling to the surface. It has been like that for ten years. The yearning and desperate desire to be a mother, and who knows how much longer that desire will go unfulfilled.

At the end of it all I get to feel like it’s not ever fair nor will it ever be. I know there is no promise of fairness in this mortal life we live. I know that, and can’t change it.  I can acknowledge it and struggle to accept it but I don’t have to like it. Acceptance and like are not equal to each other. So therefore I can accept this hand dealt to me but I don’t have to like it.

The C word and the fear it strikes in my heart.

/ Lynne / Leave a comment

In November of 1992 my mother was diagnosed with late stage adenocarcinoma of the lung. By the time they found the cancer it had already spread to her bones and her internal organs and later her brain. From diagnosis to death it was a very short 90 days. She was 43 when she died.

I was 19 years old. I had just graduated from high school the previous June. I didn’t have a clue what to do next.

Flash forward to January of 2015, sitting in a coffee shop I received a call from my doctor. Atypical pre cancerous cells have been found in my uterus.  I am 41. The same age that my mother starting showing signs and symptoms of her cancer.

I have an appointment with the oncologist on the 26th of January. That is when we find out just how much surgery is involved and if chemo is going to happen.

I’m scared, terrified really. I feel like I’m in a living nightmare of recurring déjà vu. I know that cancer research has come a long way since 1993. I know that catching it early is a good thing. I know my chances are better, but I want to shout from the top of the world “It’s not fair”.

There are too many things I want to do in my life. To many moments I have left.  These are the thoughts that haunt me during the dark times. When it’s quiet and my brain likes to wander. When I wonder what is next.

Sure it’s a simple surgery, sure they just found atypical pre-cancerous cells in the one tiny sample of the vast landscape that is my innards, but that one tiny sample and those itty bitty cells that are not normal that are the breeding ground for much worse have screwed up my year.

See I started my second year at college. I’m doing great in school. Sure I struggle and cry over math. Once I understand the concepts it sticks to my brain like it is modge podged there. My marriage is great. L is my best friend and my reasonable side. I’m surround by friends and family that love me and care about me and make me feel secure and supported.

So why the hell am I so scared?

Because I don’t want this to be my end. Because I’m better than this. My life is worth more than a few stupid abnormal cells. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to know what’s on the other side. I have too many things to conquer in my life.

I want more long walks with my husband.

I want more peanut butter, strawberry jelly, mint and bacon toasted sandwiches at Clawson’s.

I want to cruise the world with the love of my life.

I want to dig toes in the sand and watch the sun set as often as possible.

I want my life to mean something.

I want to change the lives of those around me.

I want more sloppy wet dog noses smearing my glasses.

I want more Notre Dame Football and Predators Hockey.

I want more laughter and inside jokes with my husband.

I want more quite times for us to just be.

I want life and all it’s glory and ugliness to go on until the twilight of my years.

See I am still wanting, I am still selfish, yet never lacking in these moments of my life. I know it is early in my diagnois but these are the fears that plague me in the darkness of night.

Twenty Years later.

/ Lynne / 1 Comment

I graduated high school in June of 1992. I had big dreams I wanted to be the first college graduate in my family. I was the first to go to college I was also the first to leave college.

See I started school and immediately got in over my head. Twenty years ago the the only time I ever talked to anyone about my college path was to talk to a financial aid counselor about being declared an independent student because I had no parent or guardian living, that I knew about at the time.

See back then I choose a  degree field that I thought I wanted, there was no advisement. I ran to the arms of the local community college with not a single clue. I wasn’t ready for the commitment, the homework or anything remotely college related. I had no one to lean on, no support system that understood what I was jumping into. I was 19 and I was clueless.

I spent several semesters at the local community college in two different degree fields. I was so sure that I wanted to become a lawyer that I started the paralegal studies program. Mock Trial never prepared me for the classes I was taking. After a few semesters I met some people from a private college that told me all about campus life and how wonderful it was. I was hooked. So I applied got accepted and dove head first into a four year program. This time I only had 3 different majors. One of those majors was teaching. Something I had thought about doing other than being a lawyer.

Boy was I in over my head yet again. See in all of this I didn’t take into consideration my personal history.

See the February of 1993 I lost my mother to cancer. I felt all alone surrounded by well meaning family. I was also a people pleaser so I did what I thought I was suppose to do. Not once in the entire two years of my college experience did I have a clue as to what I really wanted to do with my life.

Truth be told it has taken me twenty years to know what I want to be when I grow up.

I think often of my 7th grade history teacher. He was inspiring. We got to choose to write a research paper or do a project.  I always picked the project.

It was in his class that I learned to program in Basic. It was in his class that I learned that I had more potential then I ever dreamed. It was in that history class that I learned to love history.

In the last twenty years I have learned many things. Of all the things I learned it was a silly Facebook game that ignited a fire in my.  I’m sure you probably saw the game or even played it. If you commented on someone’s status they would give you a number and you were suppose to share that number of things that your friends probably didn’t know about you. I got the number seven.

As I was creating my list of all the things one of those seven was the regret that I never got my degree. My sister in law commented that it wasn’t too late that I could go back to school and get a degree.  Pondering exactly that I pulled out our tax forms from last year and filled out a FAFSA to see if I qualified for any financial aid at all. While I was waiting to see if I would get any aid another friend posted about getting a scholarship to the only NCATE ( National Council for Accreditation of Teacher Education) accredited online university. It peaked my interest and I took a look at the school and the programs they offered. I asked for more information and then paid the application fee and started the process not ever really expecting to get in.

So what did I decide to be when I grow up? I want to teach. I want to teach history. I want to teach history to 7th and 8th grade students.

Just a week or so later my application has been accepted, my financial aid is in place and poof I am a college student again.  My husband and I had talked about me going back to school after he graduated.  The day he graduated I got my acceptance letter to Western Governors University .

I never expected to get any financial aid.

I never expected any prior credits to transfer, but I am so happy that 19 of them did.

I never expected to be 40 years old and back in school and ready and focused and determined to succeed and graduate on time if not early.

It just goes to show you that when you decide to do something and it is the right path you are suppose to be one all the doors will open for you.

So what is one regret that you can fix? I shared mine how about sharing yours?

Retail Pet Peeves.

/ Lynne / Leave a comment

I have re-entered the retail world after almost 20 years of leaving working retail. Now mind you I was just and guilty of some of the following rules for shopping that I am going to share with you.

See part of my job is to clean up the store at the end of the night, to return stock to the shelves where it belongs. Yeah that means that I spend an hour putting those 18 packets of merchandise you decided you didn’t want right when you checked out. Now multiply that by 800 customers all day long and that’s a TON of merchandise to return each night, and I don’t get to go home until it’s done. Not to mention the ton of trash customers bring into the store. We have to clean up your Starbucks cups, your french fries and yes even your dirty diapers you can’t seem to throw in the trash. Not to mention the horror of the bathrooms. Really we are all grown ups here clean up after yourself. There is no need to smear your poop around. (Yes this really happened and yes we know it was an adult because it was spelled correctly and up too high to be a small child)

1. I am a person please speak to me in a civil tone.  I am not your punching bag. I will do the best I can to help you find what you want but if we don’t have it you do not have the right to cuss me out, yell at me or treat me like crap.

2. If you are shopping in a big chain store know that just because the ad says we carry something doesn’t mean that our specific store carries it. The way it works is as follows: Stores 1-30 sell a  ton of product A. Product A sells great on the West Coast and Mid West, it does not sell at all in the South so it is not stocked in Southern stores. The company only prints ONE ad for the entire nation. So read the fine print where it says may not be available in all stores.

3. Those little people with you are most likely your children or children you are responsible for. Please do your job and parent them. Letting them pull things off the shelves and throw it on the floor is not good manners. Nor is letting them drop kick balls across the store. Leaving poop filled dirty diapers in your shopping cart is just lazy. We have bathrooms USE them.

4. Love Starbucks Hot Chocolate and their Steamers as much as the next person but I do not love picking up your nasty cup you left on a shelf in the empty spot you made when you moved the merchandise off the shelf and placed it on the floor.

5. Yes we have a markers, NO the white shelves are not there for you to write on to test out the markers, so unless you are Banksy stop tearing open marker packages and “testing” out the color on the shelves.

6. If the store you’re in has a number system in order to help you, USE it. It’s there so that everyone can be helped so that you don’t have to wait in line. In fact most places that have number systems will use their PA system to call your number. So I promise you will not lose your spot, we will not forget you.

7. When we tell you your card was declined the first time it is possible that it was a bad swype or a wrong button press. Anything after two or three just accept that there is a problem with your card. No need to say “I swear there is money in my account I just made a deposit”. or “I know it works I just used it”. To be honest most of us could care less why your card does or does not work.

8. I am glad to help you, in fact I get paid to do it but I do not get paid to be your personal shopper. I don’t know what color blue will match your 30 year old sofa unless you bring me a sample.

9. I love Pinterest, we all love pinterest but unless you come in with the instructions I will not know how to make the cute picture you are showing me.

10. It would be great if when you come up to have fabric cut, check out or ask me for help if you would take your headphones off and put your conversation on hold.  I can’t help you if you can’t hear what I’m saying. On that same note the rest of the world does not need to hear your conversation. Remember you are in a public place no need to yell.

These are just some of the things that have rumbling around my brain the last few months.

What are your retail pet peeves?

How life interrupts when you have plans.

/ Lynne / Leave a comment

If you follow me on social media you know that I have been tossed and turned in a sea of personal turmoil.  I got a job worked for almost 3 months then got let go because I was joking with a personal friend of mine and someone misunderstood the comments and situation. I’m okay with that. It’s been for the better I think.

I  have never been fired before……..I have always left on my own terms.  Not the path or plan I had, but as we all know life is what happens when you make plans.

I think many times when things change rapidly it is because we have prayed for an answer and something happens and we take that as the answer and forget to pray and ask if that is the answer or if it is a distraction.  I know that sounds confusing but it’s like this, when you are troubled and you pray for a way to solve your problem and you do all that you are suppose to do not always is the first solution the answer Heavenly Father has for you. It’s like jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

We want everything so fast and so easy these days sometimes I think we forget that it takes work. We lose site of the goal like and get distracted by the things right in our face.

When I was young I played soccer. I played on a pretty good team. We won more than we lost and this was in the days when keeping score and being a good sport about losing was a virtue you learned on the field.  I played the position of defender closest to the goalie.  I loved playing. Many times all the other players were down at the other end of the field and the other defender and the goalie and I would get distracted by playing with the flowers in the grass or the caulk that marked the lines. We were not watching the game we were occupied with what was in front of us.  Had we paid more attention we would have probably learned so much more that game.  We would have seen the break away and seen the ball and the striker headed for our side of the field.  We would have been standing up and ready to defend our goal.  But we were not paying attention and were too slow standing up, we were confused as to why the coach was yelling at us and pointing.  Needless to say the other team scored.

I was upset and it was disappointing. I wanted to blame the other defender and the goalie, I wanted to say it wasn’t my fault but looking back almost 30 years now I know it was just as much my fault as it was my teammates.

See I had a plan that day. My plan was to stop the ball and be the “hero” of the team.  As often it happens in youth soccer there is a great amount of offense and very little defense. I wanted to be the first one to stop the ball to keep from the other team scoring, but I was too busy with the distractions in front of me.  I let a moment of boredom keep me from being a team player.

I let the “prestige” of the place I was working get in the way of what my actual goal was.  I also began to let my self slip and be tested.  I am sure Heavenly Father often shakes his head in frustration with me.  I am walking the path but get distracted and stop or just nudge the line sometimes. I am by no means Molly Mormon but I know who I am and where I come from and where I’m going. Sometimes I need a test or a lesson to remind me just how far I have come and how far I have to go.

Getting fired isn’t the end of the world just the end of a page in the current chapter you are writing.

 

LB.

Stigma This

/ Lynne / Leave a comment

There are days when getting out of bed is overwhelming.

There are days when the thought of going out the front door is paralyzing.

There are days when getting out of the house is an itch that can’t be scratched fast enough.

There are days when everyone around you laughs and you join them.

There are days when moving fast isn’t fast enough.

These are the days of my life. I am bi-polar with hypomania. Each person with this defect presents differently. I just happen to function and create on a higher level than others. I can have insanely organized and creative periods and times where being organized is not a priority to me.

Bi-Polar Disorder can be defined as the follow:

Bipolar disorder, also known as manic-depressive illness, is a brain disorder that causes unusual shifts in mood, energy, activity levels, and the ability to carry out day-to-day tasks. Symptoms of bipolar disorder are more severe than the normal ups-and-downs that everyone goes through from time to time. Bipolar disorder symptoms can result in damaged relationships, poor job or school performance, and even suicide. But bipolar disorder can be treated. A combination of professional counseling and medication helps most people live productive and fulfilling lives.

Bipolar symptoms are sometimes not recognized as parts of a larger problem, so it can be years before a person is properly diagnosed and treated. While some experience symptoms during childhood, bipolar disorder often develops in a person’s late teens or early adult years. It has been reported that at least half of all cases start before age 25. Like diabetes or heart disease, bipolar disorder is a long-term illness that must be carefully managed throughout a person’s life.

Bipolar mood changes are called episodes, and people usually shift from manic to depressive episodes.

For many generations the word bi-polar has been taboo. Telling people that you have depression or anxiety or a mental health diagnosis was social disaster. Many patients have been told not to tell anyone for fear of being denied jobs, being considered a social outcast. It can be intimidating to tell people about your illness. You fret and worry about whether or not you will have friends left. You worry about keeping your job, getting a new job. You worry about being shunned by friends and loved ones because you are “unstable”. Due to the stigma many with mental health illnesses will forgo treatment and self-medicate with illegal drugs, alcohol, food or other reckless behaviors. These things can seem to help for some time but are not directly treating the illness especially bi-polar disorder.

Facts v. Fiction of Mental Illness BringChange2mind.org

FICTION: People living with a mental illness are often violent.

FACT: Actually, the vast majority of people living with mental health conditions are no more violent than anyone else. People with mental illness are much more likely to be the victims of crime.

FICTION: Mental illness is a sign of weakness.

FACT: A mental illness is not caused by personal weakness — nor can it be cured by positive thinking or willpower — proper treatment is needed.

FICTION: Only military personnel who have been in combat can be diagnosed with PTSD.

FACT: While PTSD is prevalent in men and women who have seen combat, experiencing or witnessing a traumatic event can trigger PTSD, including violent personal assaults such as rape or robbery, natural or human-caused disasters, or accidents.

FICTION: People with a mental illness will never get better.

FACT: For some people, a mental illness may be a lifelong condition, like diabetes. But as with diabetes, proper treatment enables many people with a mental illness to lead fulfilling and productive lives.

FICTION: Children aren’t diagnosed with mental illness.

FACT: Millions of children are affected by depression, anxiety and other mental illnesses. As a matter of fact, 1 in 10 children live with a diagnosable mental illness. Getting treatment is essential.

FICTION: “Mental illness can’t affect me!”

FACT: Mental illness can affect anyone. While some illnesses have a genetic risk, mental illness can affect people of all ages, races and income levels, whether or not there is a family history.

There has been some amazing and ground-breaking research in the last 5 years regarding mental illnesses especially bi-polar disorders. Quite a few studies have linking bi-polar disorder to a defect in DNA. The Medical News Today article explains the new research being done across the nation into what exactly causes or can cause bi-polar disorder.

The facts are that 1 in 6 adults are living with a brain-related illness including depression, bipolar disorder, PTSD and schizophrenia.

The fact is, your child’s teacher, the bus driver, the next door neighbor, husband, wife, best friend, police officer, fire fighter, pilot, soliders and just about everyone knows someone with mental illness.

We can all agree that bullying is wrong that making fun of people is cruel and mean. Why is it then that when someone is acting differently than expected they are describe as being “bipolar” or you hear “The weather is totally bipolar” We expect our parents and Military to be strong and brave. So much so that men and women in our armed services are committing suicide at a rate of 17.5 suicides per 100,000 in 2010. That is 17.5 to many. Many are afraid that asking for help and getting counseling will undermine their career. As of September of 2011 there was an estimated 1,468,364 active duty service personnel. This number does not include reserves on active duty for training.

Now I’m not great with math but let’s take a look at the numbers. 1 in 6 adults are living with a brain related illness so that means out of the approximately 1.5 million activity duty military personnel approximately 250,000 of those men and women are living with a mental health issue. Now don’t quote my math. Some of you know I married my husband to do the math and well he’s sleeping while I write the post……..but back on topic.

There are so many false stigmas about those of us with mental health illness. Why? Why do people automatically assume that you are dysfunctional if you share your mental health status?

One of the websites I’ve quoted above www.bringchange2mind.org is one of the best resources on the internet.

Another voice in the dark stigma of mental health is Logan Noone here is his story Bipolar Disorder Recovery.

I’ve read it and heard it said “Be the change you want to see in the world.”

I draw the line in the sand and I refuse to hide. I have bipolar disorder and I am not a stigma.

As the Universe turns and The Leftovers all at one time.

/ Lynne / 1 Comment

This week was an emotionally draining and uplifting.  I have to share some background before I can share the change.

From the time of birth till my 8th or 9th birthday I had what some would call an idealistic childhood. Mom and Dad and baby sister. What I didn’t know then was that my parents marriage was in shambles. They were originally married in 1972. I was born in December of 1973. They then divorced in approximately 76 and remarried in 78 or so. My sister and I joke that we are so different because I’m from the first marriage and she’s from the second.  My parents we later divorced for a final time in 1982.

My mother promptly married my step father. At 8 years old I’m not really sure what I was expecting or what was going on.  All I knew is that we (my sister and I and mom) all moved out of the house we lived in to a trailer park.  The trailer was smelly and the kids were not very nice.  We then in some twisted fate ended up moving back in to the house with my dad, my mom us girls and my step-father. Even as young as I was I knew something wasn’t right.

Eventually we moved to another city and then one night in the middle of the night my mom and step-father packed up some bags and we left on a Greyhound bus for California.  I remember some of the trip but not much.  We moved in with my mother’s parents.

This is when my terror started. My step-father hated the way I ate, walked, dressed, talked you name it I did it wrong.  The abuse started as mostly verbal and mental.  Calling me dumb, stupid and telling us that we were nothing but poor white trash and that was all we would ever be.  The physical abuse didn’t start until my grandfather passed away.

For the next ten years I lived in terror. Never knowing what was going to set him off.  I didn’t want him to hurt my sister so I took the blame for her. Took the beatings, the verbal barrage that never seemed to end.  I remember one time we were walking in to a pharmacy/drug store and there was a greeter at the cart area. He was shaking hands and saying hello to everyone. He was wearing a red vest with the logo of the store in the front.  He said hello and shook my hand.  My step-father was furious. He grabbed me by the should and dug his thumb in to it and “steered” me out of the store to the car.  He forced me into the back seat hitting my head on the roof as he did so. We sat there in tense silence till my mother and sister came out. When we got home I was yelled at and screamed at and belittled and eventually was told to drop my shorts and bend over the footstool for a spanking.  I was crying so hard that my nose ran onto the footstool and floor and I got hit more because of it.  I could not sit down after and my mother had to keep my home from school.  To hide it from my grandmother I was told not to tell her or the police or it would be worse the next time.  I always dreaded her going to work or on vacation. We lived in her home. When she was there I felt safe.  I ended up missing several days of school because of the bruising on the back of my legs and back and tush.

This was just one of many of his cruelties.   We couldn’t cuff our pants because only poor people cuffed their pants. I got grounded from reading because he was tired of seeing my nose in a book.  I was studying for a spelling test once and he was giving me the list of words, one of the words was “while”, with his Tennessee accent it sounded like he was saying “whale”, that cause a split lip and more time out of school.  We couldn’t sit on the concrete porch because some old wives tale said we would get hemorrhoids.  Some of these things seem silly but to me these things kept me in a constant state of terror.  Elementary, Jr. High and High School was miserable. They just brought about more things for him to get angry about.  For the most part as long as he was at work things were okay. Weekends were rough and if my grandmother was on vacation he seemed to pack in as much misery as possible.  He also kept us away from others. As many abusers do.  We were sheltered and kept in the house as much as possible.

There were several times that my mom promised to leave him all we had to do was ask. We asked, we pleaded, we begged. He would always make her promises or get her high.  That’s how a co-dependent abusive relationship works.

My mother passed away in 1993 not long after my grandmother and step-father moved my sister and I to Iowa.  I was 19 by the time but had no idea how to function with out my family. I wasn’t allowed to make any decisions with out fear of abuse.  I started my first job in January of 1992 and even that was controlled.

Not long after moving to Iowa my step-father just left. No reason why, no note nothing.  I guess he found that he couldn’t bully may aunt and uncle. Soon after he left I started spreading my wings. I traveled here and there and eventually ended up back in Tennessee. In the same area that my step-father was from. Since 1995 I’ve been looking over my shoulder and out of the corner of my eye. Worried, concerned and partially terrified that I would run into him.

On Thursday September 6, 2012 on a whim I signed up for one of those “find anyone” pages.  I like to keep tabs on what is out on internet about me and what people have access to.  After double checking my info and opting out I looked up my step father not sure why after all this time what made me do it, but I did.  It had him listed as deceased.

I sat shocked, this was overwhelming. I had to have confirmation. I started looking for SSI Death index confirmation. I couldn’t find it not really sure how to find it. I called a friend of mine and she found it.

I cried, I laughed, I sat quiet. It was finally over. The door and darkness finally gone.  He passed away back in 2008.  For almost 20 years I have been on edge just waiting for this evil man to pop back up. I have fought for the last 30 years I have struggled and fought to be free.  Having confirmation that the information was actually true was the final piece of therapy.

The Gospel has helped me grow and learn to forgive and move forward and heal.  Knowing that he can no longer hurt anyone. Knowing that now he has to answer for all the evil he did, for all the pain and suffering he caused.

I am FREE!

And that my friends is As the Universe Turns AND The Leftover.  Thank you for reading this far. Thank you for listening and understanding.

L.

Life-Monday

/ Lynne / Leave a comment

Life is strange wonderful and confusing. Take hosting exchange students for example.

Things that we take as the normal typical everyday items are not.

I think sometimes the world and its people differ more than we want to admit. We want to believe that everyone no matter where they live on this spinning blue ball are the same. Sure if you prick our fingers we all bleed. How we deal with that is what makes us so different.

We love hosting students from other cultures it challenges us and why we think and believe the way we do.

I can honestly say I beleieve we have learned and grown more than we have taught.

L.