Sticks and Stones

Growing up, children should feel safe, secure, loved, and cherished. Unfortunately that isn’t always the case. Many children grow up feeling like the love of their parents is conditional. That their safety is reliant on their parents mood that day. That security is the guy at the door of the Target store. They’ve never heard of nor felt being cherished and wouldn’t even know that it was something they deserved.

Children growing up in these environments tend to become peacemakers, putting the needs of others before their own. Working their hardest to keep everyone else, especially their parents, “happy” so that they can feel safe and loved. It sounds like it might be a good thing, but it’s not for many reasons. Children who do this begin to believe that they don’t matter, their feelings don’t matter, their needs don’t matter. They internalize the idea that the only thing that matters is keeping the people who are supposed to love them unconditionally happy, so that they will continue to love them.

When they grow up, these children have a higher tendency to wind up in a physically or emotionally abusive relationship and may not even realize it, because that’s what they’re used to. They have learned that the people who love them also hurt them. That love and pain go together. They have been conditioned by the situation they grew up in to believe that those who love them will also make them feel worthless.

Or maybe, the abused child has learned they were abused as a child and healed from it. Maybe they thought they learned from that. Maybe they find a romantic partner who values them and shows genuine love. Somebody who totally understands the abuse they suffered and helps them continue to heal throughout the rest of their life. That would be amazing. There are people out there who will be that person for the abuse survivor.

Then there are people who will know that the person is an abuse survivor and try to understand, but because they don’t have empathy, they may be unable to truly help. After awhile, they may end up saying things to the abuse survivor that are hurtful, that cause the survivor to revert back to the hurt, insecure, scared child, but because of therapy, the survivor is able to say something to the partner. The partner apologizes or explains away the behavior and the abuse survivor, wanting to be loved, accepts and forgives and moves forward.

The hard part in all of this is that the words leave scars. If the motivations for the negative words are never dealt with, the scars may get infected. If the words continue to happen, if a pattern of negative words emerge, the childhood abuse survivor may end up becoming the victim of adult domestic partner violence.

The survivor of childhood abuse needs to heal from that, face it and always confront it in all relationships moving forward. Nobody ever deserves to be abused, sometimes abuse is so covert that we don’t even realize it’s happening, even more so if you are the survivor of childhood abuse.

Always, always, always be careful with your words. According to several relationship researchers, including John Gottman and April Stevenson, it takes a ratio of 7:1-4:1 of positive to negative interactions for people to maintain a positive relationship. That means that you need to have somewhere between four and seven positive interactions to every negative interaction to maintain a good relationship and build a person up. So when you criticize a person, you better have at least 4 good things to say about them too, I would tend to go overboard for a child. But be specific. Say things like, “You did a great job cleaning up the clothes off your bedroom floor.” “You worked really hard on that math homework.”

If you are an abuse survivor though, I think you can set boundaries without doing this. Telling somebody they hurt you, is not being critical as long as you do it in a way that emphasizes your feelings. Such as “I felt hurt, when I was told________________, because_________________.”

www.pinterest.com/pin/323837029429358137

It would be amazing if we could end childhood abuse and domestic abuse, but as long as there are humans involved in relationships, we won’t be able to. Until then, my hope is that all who have been abused will find the help they need. Here are a few resources if you have been abused or know someone who has been abused:

National Domestic Violence Hotline

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

Thankful in the Turmoil?

https://speakzeasy.wordpress.com/tag/emotional-turmoil/

I haven’t written much recently, but with what I have written, you know that I am broken, depressed, anxious, and generally not in a good place.

To help combat that I have been seeing a licensed therapist to gain insights and strategies to help navigate this cruel, cold, divided world we live in that is being ravaged by a disease that’s wreaking havoc on people’s physical and mental health.

I also just finished teaching a unit on stress and how to better manage stress in our lives. Between the two, therapy and teaching, one strategy stood out, being thankful, or showing gratitude.

I’m not talking about toxic positivity, the idea that if you think positive thoughts all the bad stuff will go away and you’ll feel all better, depression will magically disappear and your thoughts will suddenly slow down.

I’m talking about taking a few minutes each day in the midst of the turmoil and chaos that is life at the moment (because it is a moment, no matter how long it lasts, it will pass) and seeing the good things that are still there. We may have to squint our eyes and look really hard, maybe even pull out a magnifying glass or a microscope, but they’re there; those positive things that give us hope in humanity, that make life worth living, that make it that much easier to get out of bed the next day.

When my therapist first suggested the idea to write down five things each day I thought it was a dumb idea. I didn’t see how it could help, I knew it wasn’t going to make everything magically get better, but I did it anyway. For about three weeks now, I have been faithfully making a daily list of five things I’m thankful for.

I was right, the world hasn’t changed, my life is still in turmoil, I still feel broken, but it has made it a little easier to get out of bed each day. It has given me a challenge to look forward to as I try to find a few good things everyday, and I love a challenge.

Here are some of the things I’m thankful for (in no particular order)

  1. My kids because they made me a mom and showed me what it is to love someone so much that you can’t imagine life without them and how bad it hurts to see them hurting, and how amazing feels to see them happy and successful and being who they want to be.
  2. My job because it allows me to be immersed in my favorite subject and to be with my friends on a daily basis (pre-COVID; now it’s more on a weekly basis) and my co-workers are some of my best friends.
  3. My friends because they are there when I need people to talk to, to have fun with, etc.
  4. Food, because I love food, especially homemade food that I get to feed to my family at dinnertime all together talking about our day.
  5. My family, the ones that are by blood and the married in ones, because we are there for each other no matter what and help each other out.
  6. My students because I know that distance learning isn’t easy for most of them, but they show up on their computers every day and listen to me, then they go off and do the assignments I give them. They tell me things about their lives and struggles with school in emails, they ask for help, they’re doing their absolute best in this weird new world we live in and it gives me hope for the future that we have such a resilient group of young people who will go out into the world in a few years.
  7. Jesus because without him in my life, I wouldn’t have any peace.

This idea of giving thanks in the turmoil is actually biblical. In 1 Thessalonians 5:18 it says to “give thanks in all circumstances: for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” Sometimes I think people mistake this to mean that Christians have to be thankful for our circumstances, but that’s not what the verse is saying at all, it says IN all circumstances.

That means, looking for the little things that make the living in those circumstances just a little bit easier. Seeing the things that make getting out of bed worth it every day.

Some days I do have to pull out a magnifying glass to find what I’m thankful for, but I still find at least five things every day to be thankful for, it hasn’t changed the chaos in the world, the division in the nation or the turmoil I feel in my life, but it has made getting out of bed each day easier.

Divided Nation; Broken Me

Our nation just celebrated Independence Day on July 4th. It was the 244th birthday of our country. Of course there have been times that our nation has been divided, once it got so bad it lead to the Civil War and 1968 is described in multiple places as a “tumultuous year,” but it hasn’t been this divided in my lifetime.

After 9/11, for the most part, Americans joined together against a common enemy; Al Queda. It was nice to feel the solidarity between most Americans as we stood together in unity.

Fast forward to 2020, the longest year of my life and we’re only in July. It started with wildfires in Australia and the threat of World War III and we’ve experienced COVID-19 protests to get our hair cut and go to a bar to have a drink as well as protests against police brutality. I just heard that most counties in California are having to close restaurants for in restaurant dining, bars, hair salons etc. yet we are debating how to open schools safely.

Everyone is an armchair epidemiologist and knows exactly how this new virus will work, even though actual scientists, virologists, epidemiologists and other doctors are constantly learning new things because they are seeing what the virus does to people in the hospitals around the world. Because of new knowledge, scientists, the CDC and WHO are giving new guidelines and recommendations that the armchair experts are calling BS on because its different than what was said earlier. That’s the thing with learning something new; sometimes it causes you to change your mind about what you thought was true before because you have more information now.

Then we are being led by a group of people at the national level who continue to make a physical illness political. Masks help prevent the spread of all kinds of germs, not just COVID-19. We have known this for years! However, now, if you wear a mask to protect others, you are actually wearing it to show your disapproval of Trump, or because you’re scared or a sheeple or a myriad of other negative connotations that people have come up with. If you are one of the people who for whatever reason choose not to wear a mask (which I honestly don’t understand except for some health reasons, that you should probably be staying home if you have) you are called selfish, a Trumper (or worse).

Masks are dividing us. Seriously people, this is our collective health.

That brings me to the next thing that divides us. So many people who say, well it has a 99% survival rate. That means there is 1% that won’t survive and that doesn’t take into consideration that many people who “recover” will face lifelong medical complications from “surviving” COVID-19.

I also hear so many people ask about those dying of COVID, “how old were they?” or “what were their underlying conditions?” As if being old or having a preexisting condition is an acceptable reason to die of COVID before your time. I’m sure as long as it is someone they don’t know who is dying those people don’t really care.

Then there’s the argument about opening schools. All the real experts say the best way to avoid spreading COVID is to avoid crowds, close contact and confined spaces, but then so many parents who either don’t believe COVID is as dangerous as scientists say it is or are tired of having their kids at home or are worried about them falling behind some arbitrary educational goals that non-educator government officials created want their kids back in school all day. Unfortunately, there is no safe way to send kids back to school in the school buildings.

Classrooms are going to be crowded, mine cannot accommodate 6 feet of spacing between people, we’ll be lucky to get 2-3 feet of space between each person. The classrooms will be crowded and they are confined spaces. Add to that the fact that most classrooms are poorly ventilated and schools can’t afford hand sanitizer and Kleenex during a regular flu season. Schools will not be able to keep students safe if they are back in person for learning.

Schools will also not be able to keep staff safe if we have to return to in person learning, there is just not enough money to purchase enough safety product.

All of this stress leads to broken me.

People say schools need to open so parents can work. Why is it the schools responsibility to provide free daycare to parents? Why isn’t it possible for workplaces to provide variable schedules so that parents can be home with their children to provide some guidance with the distance learning that teachers are providing? Many social problems have been exposed by this pandemic, a lack of internet accessibility was exposed at the beginning of distance learning and it was up to schools to work with local internet service providers to get hotspots for families that needed it. Why can’t internet service providers provide free or low cost internet to students whose families make below a certain income? Schools already continued to provide food for children under 18 during distance learning. Many restaurants have stepped up and provided meals for seniors who are low income. That’s awesome, why can’t something similar be done for kids, oh wait, because schools will do it.

Society needs to step up and step in and begin to help with some of society’s problems that have been exposed. They can’t just leave it all to the schools to take care of. If we send all students back to in person instruction in a few weeks, there will be an even larger increase in the number of people who are infected with COVID-19. Many of those who are infected will become terribly ill, some will die. I hope it isn’t you, or someone you love.

I’m tired of feeling broken by our divided nation. We need to unite and work together to fight against this disease and stop its spread as much as possible instead of fighting each other.

Wear a mask. Stay 6 feet away. Avoid crowded places. Avoid confined spaces. Show compassion and love for others in your actions and words. And lets work together to fix society’s problems.

We’re In This Together!

But at least we can remember that we’re all in this together.

As shelter in place is continuing in most places around the world (I know there are some places, even here in the U.S. that have chosen not to shelter in place or are coming out of it) more and more people are becoming restless for it to end soon. Even the President of the United States is talking about it ending by May 1st. And Dr. Oz said yesterday that sending kids back to school is okay because only 2-3 percent will die.

I’ve read multiple people complaining (?), praising (?), questioning (?), about how low the numbers of people testing positive for Coronavirus and dying from related complications. I’ve even replied to a few of them that perhaps the numbers are so low, because so many of us have been practicing social distancing and it’s having an impact on the transmission of the disease. Which is the reason that the shelter in place orders were given to begin with.

Sometimes I’ve been able to participate in civil discussions with people about different viewpoints about this whole pandemic. That’s interesting and fun and educational. I learn new things. I see things from somebody else’s point of view. These discussions can bring people together.

More often however, in social media as well as in the news media, I see people end up insulting one another. I see people turning against others.

Instead of the global crisis bringing people together, it seems to be tearing us apart.

Instead of people banding together to help one another, I see people blaming others.

Instead of listening to scientists as they race to figure this virus out, I hear people blaming them for creating the pandemic.

I hear people complain about what the government is doing to try to protect us, but not offering a solution except to let us all get the virus to have “herd immunity.” Which isn’t a good solution for the thousands who will die because their body cannot fight off the virus.

I know there is good out there. I see that too. I see the people sewing face masks for others. I see John Krasinski starting his “Some Good News” YouTube show. I see people thanking essential workers in lots of ways. I see people helping those who have lost jobs. I know there is good out there too.

We’re all frustrated. None of us really know when this is going to end. It’s having devastating consequences on the economy and people’s mental and emotional health. If we end the shelter in place orders too quickly it could have a devastating impact on the death toll and hospitals, which so far we’ve been able to mitigate in most places in America. I don’t have a solution to any of the problems we are facing economically, emotionally, mentally, or physically for the entire world, but I do have some suggestions that will help us all to get along a little better since we’re all in this together:

  • take care of yourself, stay away from people, places that you know can make you sick whether that with Coronavirus, allergies, flu, whatever–due what you can to stay healthy.
  • If you get sick, call the doctor and follow their directions.
  • If someone offers a different perspective, look at it, you might learn something new, even if you don’t look at it, don’t insult the person just because they think differently then you.
  • establish a routine for yourself, try to sleep, wake and eat at roughly the same times each day.
  • exercise every day, outside if you can. The sun and fresh air will do wonders for your mood.
  • If you’re in a bad place with someone who abuses you call the National Abuse Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or go their website https://www.thehotline.org/what-is-live-chat/ where you can live chat with someone who can help you.
  • Reach out to people if you need to, if you know someone who struggles with their mental health, reach out to them. It’s not always easy to ask for help.
  • Pray. Having a higher being to talk to helps many people.
  • If you qualify for unemployment, apply for it. It’ll take awhile, but it’s worth it to get that extra help. It’s going to be a long time before the economy gets back to normal, because it’s not just our economy, it’s the world economy that’s in bad shape.

I’m sure there are other things that will help you, you just need to figure out what they are. One of the biggest things I can encourage people to do is to remember that we may not all believe the same things, we may not all want the same things, we may not all be afraid of the same things, but we are all in this together and need to be nice and have patience with one another so that as many people as possible make it out alive and healthy.

Last night on Disney’s sing along (yes I watched it, no my kids didn’t) one of the last songs was from High School Musical: “We’re All In This Together”. It seems to be a fitting anthem for this global crisis we find ourselves in now.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y6cXxLTr6Ao

Victim Blaming has to STOP!!!!!

First of all I want to apologize for not writing for so long. Something has been going on with the website, I don’t know what it is, but every time I write something it won’t load. In fact, I’m writing this wondering if it will load, hoping that it does. Anyway, I have been thinking about writing this post for months, since November actually, but wasn’t emotionally prepared to do it, but I am now, so here we go.

When I was 15 years old I was dating a handsome guy with brown eyes and dark hair. He was the first boy to make me feel really special and to make me feel like I had to earn his love. However, I had to earn my parent’s love, so earning love wasn’t new to me. There was one thing I wouldn’t do though, I wasn’t going to have sex with him. I told him that from the start and multiple times throughout the relationship.

We had been dating for ten months when he asked me to go with him to one of his friend’s apartments with him, I had met the friend before so I agreed. When we got there, his friend wasn’t there, but he had the key to let us in. I thought that was a weird, but I trusted him so I went in with him when he explained that the friend had given him the key because he knew he’d get there later than us.

My boyfriend led me to the couch and started kissing me, whispering that we might as well make good use of the time alone. So we started making out. Next thing I knew he had me pinned down on the couch, I was wearing a skirt, and he was forcing himself inside of me. There was nothing nice or romantic about what he was doing. When he was done, he told me to clean up before his friend got there and knew what I had done.

I was humiliated. I was horrified. I was shocked. I was scared. I was broken. I was crying (he told me to stop). I was devastated.

Nobody would know what I had done. I tried to bury myself in the couch while he was on top of me, but the couch wouldn’t open up and swallow me. I couldn’t get away from him because he weighed almost a hundred pounds more than me and had me pinned beneath him. I didn’t tell him to stop.

I was too humiliated to tell a soul. I was scared if I broke up with him he’d tell people that I’d had sex with him, or people would ask me why I broke up with him and I couldn’t tell anybody what happened, so I stayed. I was ashamed.

Months later, I finally told someone what he did to me, and finally called it what it was, rape. They had to report it to the police. I was questioned. The officer asked me if I had told anybody when it happened. He asked me why I stayed. He asked me if I ever said no or told him to stop. He blamed me for being raped. It was my fault because I went with him willingly to the apartment, because I never said no, because I didn’t tell him to stop, because I didn’t fight back.

It took years for me to realize that it wasn’t my fault. Everyone from that police officer to my rapist, to my mom, to my best friend, to the teachings of my church told me it was my fault that I was raped.

In November I read an excellent book that wasn’t easy to read. There were times that I threw the book across the bed or couch where I was sitting. Other times I was ugly crying with loud angry sobs and snot running out of my nose. I would definitely recommend the book to anyone who has been sexually assaulted or who knows someone who has been sexually assaulted. It was hard to read, but oh so worth it.

It was written by the Stanford rape survivor Chanel Miller and it’s called Know My Name.

So many people blamed her for being raped because she was drunk. There is never a reason for rape except that the rapist is a rapist.

One of the quotes from the book that stands out to me shows how ridiculous it is that so many people blame sexual assault victims for the crime against them, when they don’t so easily blame other victims for crimes against them.

Nobody really expects you to fight back if a person steals your purse or car or breaks into your house, but they expect you to fight back when you are being sexually assaulted and if you don’t then it’s your fault or you must have wanted it.

I had been telling my boyfriend for ten months that I didn’t want to have sex, he knew I didn’t want to have sex, so if I had told him while he had my arms pinned above my head and was laying on top of me forcing himself into me, would me telling him “NO” have made him stop. I was crying and that didn’t make him stop so I doubt any words would have worked.

The police officers let me know that there was nothing that they could really do, especially since it had been over a year by the time I talked to them and he was in the Marines at that point. After the Marines, my rapist has gone on to become a police officer in New Orleans.

I have healed, for the most part, I still have moments that are hard. I have an amazing husband and family and a great job. I love the life I have despite what happened to me when I was 15 years old.

My daughter is now 15. I look at her and hope that she never has to endure what I went through, especially not at that age. 15 is so young, too young to have to endure such trauma, alone.

Let’s all make a promise to stop victim blaming.

If you have been a victim of Sexual Assault

Need help?

Call 800.656.HOPE (4673) to be connected with a trained staff member from a sexual assault service provider in your area.

(un)Connected

Is it possible that by being so connected electronically that we are actually unconnected from real people sitting right next to us?

Is it possible to be in a group of people and still be completely alone?

Is it possible that we are hurting our mental health by being unconnected IRL (in real life)?

When we are constantly checking our phones, waiting for the next notification, checking the score, or our “friends” status updates, are we really present with the people around us?

How do you feel when you’re having a real-life, in-person conversation with somebody and all they do is look at their phone every few minutes, or worse yet, every few seconds?

It makes me feel, unimportant, unloved, unvalued, unconnected.

It makes me feel like the other person would rather not be there with me.

It makes me feel that if they had the opportunity to leave, they would.

It makes me feel worthless.

I begin to ask myself, “why bother? What’s the point?”

I tell myself that next time I’ll just stay home, I won’t bother, since the other person doesn’t care anyway.

If we as adults feel like this when we are ignored because people around us choose to be so connected to their phones, how do you think young, impressionable children feel when they are ignored by parents who are distracted by their phones?

According to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, we all have to have our physiological needs of air, water, rest, and food met. That’s pretty easy to have done, even if we are all attached to our phones.

Next on Maslow’s list of needs that must be met in order to become a healthy, self-actualized human being who is capable of becoming the most that you can become, is safety. He have to know that we have personal security, health, shelter and stability. These are a little harder to provide, they usually require a job and living in the “right” area, but still possible when constantly connected to our phones. Sometimes our job might even require that constant electronic connection.

Moving up Maslow’s hierarchy of needs is to be loved and belong. This is where is gets tricky. If we feel unconnected to people because of our constant electronic connection, we can’t fully meet this level. I have a difficult time being around people who can’t put their phones away for the time that we are together without feeling unloved and unconnected with them.

According to Maslow, the next step is self-esteem. This is where we learn to like ourselves, gain confidence, begin to respect others and gain the respect of others.

Finally, Maslow says, if all the other needs are met, we can reach self-actualization, where we can reach our full potential and become the best versions of ourselves.

I’m afraid that with all of our electronic connectedness, we are becoming unconnected from each other. When we are unconnected from each other, we don’t feel loved or a sense of belonging. Without feeling love or a sense of belonging we won’t be able to develop a healthy self-esteem and sense of self-respect or be able to respect others, and we definitely won’t be able to become the best version of ourselves.

After thinking and researching about all of this over the past few days, I know that I need to work on being more present when I’m with my husband, kids, and friends. I’m tired of feeling alone when I’m surrounded by people.

I might even ask people, when they are with me, to put their phones away, because if they want to be there with me, they need to be there with me. If they would rather spend time on their phone then they can go be on their phone somewhere else.

If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading!

No Means No!

So many times this week, more than usual it seems, I have had to tell multiple students that “no means no!”

It seems obvious to me. If you ask somebody for something and they tell you no, that’s the end of that conversation, move on, walk away. It’s over and done, they gave you their answer. But that isn’t the case most of the time.

Oh. My. Goodness.

Instead of “NO!” what they seem to hear is, “keep asking me the same question over and over.” It annoys me, so I can only imagine how it makes the person being asked feel. Ignored, unimportant, good for only one thing?

I step in whenever I hear the conversation continue and tell them that “no means no” and to move on with their life.

If we don’t teach our children that “no means no” in situations that seem unimportant, like sharing toys or food, how can we expect them to know that “No means no” as adults in situations that carry life long consequences as in forcing or coercing someone into having sex with them?

Rape culture starts at a young age. What we teach our toddlers and children about the right to say no and the responsibility to respect when people tell us no goes with them into their teen and adult years where rape and other sexual assault happens. We don’t want to teach our children the wrong thing. We want them to be able to tell someone no, with conviction, and stand up against them, when they continue to beg, but we also want to teach our children to respect the right of others to tell us no.

April is sexual assault awareness month. I was in Junior High the first time that somebody touched me without my permission and I never told anyone until a few years ago. I was 15 years old when my boyfriend raped me, I was too ashamed to tell anybody what happened for over a year and when I did tell, most people blamed me since I didn’t break up with him right away.

According the the National Sexual Violence Resource Center Website ( https://www.nsvrc.org/statistics ) one in four girls and one in six boys will be sexually abused before they turn 18 years old. One in five women and one in 71 men will experience rape in their lifetime while one in three women and one in six men will experience some form of contact sexual violence in their lifetime. If you want even more heart breaking statistics, feel free to check out that link.

The only way we are going to change rape culture is to change what we teach our kids. Instead of teaching our daughters not to get raped, (well both genders, but girls do tend to get raped at much higher rates than boys) we need to teach our kids not to rape. They need to know that “no means no,” but so does silence, and “go away,” and “leave me alone”…

If you or a loved one has been affected by sexual abuse or assault and needs help call the National Sexual Assault Telephone Hotline at 1-800-656-4473 to be connected to a trained staff member from a sexual assault service provider in your area.

Holiday Hope

I have overheard people talking baout how they don’t like Christmas because of a bad childhood. I grew up in a dysfunctional family. My mom and dad separated when I was almost 7 years old and my siblings and I spent the next several years living mostly with my mom, but sometimes with my dad, but we always spent Christmas with my mom and her family.

Even though they were separated and we spent Christmas day with my mom, our Christmas tradition included both of them.

Even though my parents fought, a lot. Even though they cut me down and made me feel insignificant, a lot. Even though most of the year was filled with anger and tension, Christmas time seemed magical.

One afternoon in December, when we got home from school, my dad would decide it was Christmas tree day. We’d load into what we referred to as the “banana truck”, a yellow, Volkswagen, flatbed truck, and drive to a Christmas tree farm. We’d see a tree and if it looked good, one of us kids stood there to guard it until we decided that was the one and we cut it down, or cut down a better one. He always let the three of us take a turn with the saw too, so we each had a part in bringing home the Christmas tree. Once we had the perfect tree for that year, he’d throw it onto the back of the truck, drive us to our mom’s and set it up for us. Sometimes he’d stay while we decorated and they’d get along for the evening. The magical part, they’d get along.

Then one year, when I was in middle school, we lived with my dad, and my mom rented a room from a friend. Even though it wasn’t my mom’s own house, we were going there for Christmas and there was already a tree. The problem, for me anyway, was that we weren’t going to be in a house with Christmas spirit, leading up to Christmas. My dad wasn’t going to get a tree if we weren’t going to be there for Christmas.

That year, my siblings and I took matters into our own hands.

My sister and I went hunting for the box of Christmas decorations, while my brother raided the wood pile. He found the perfect pieces of wood to fashion together in a Christmas tree shape, it wasn’t huge, maybe 2 feet tall, but it’d work.

Then, the three of is found my dad’s supply of green butcher paper. We cut off enough to wrap around our wooden Christmas tree frame, laid it out on the floor and decorated it. We drew on ornaments and Christmas lights in bright colors. Once the paper was Christmas-y enough, we wrapped it around our frame.

We took the Christmas lights and strung them up around the room, we didn’t want to put them in our paper tree, because it was the eighties and those big, old Christmas lights got hot and we didn’t want to burn our paper tree. We even hung lights in our bedrooms.

It was perfect.

Looking back, it’s still my favorite childhood Christmas memory. My siblings and I took a bad situation and filled it with hope and love. I spent many evenings that December sitting in front of our homemade, artificial tree, with nothing but the Christmas lights to illuminate the room, dreaming of a magical life and feeling peace in the hope that I could make Christmas magical on my own.

Right now, this world we live in is dysfunctional. People are fighting, a lot. People are cutting others down and making them feel insignificant, a lot. People are filled with anger and tension, alot. We can have a magical Christmas season.

We can choose to dwell on the negative and talk about how horrible things are. We can choose to keep the divisions between us and them.

Or…

We can choose to do something else.

We can choose to work together to make the world a better place, just like my siblings and I made our house a better place.

We can choose to see hope in the holidays.

We can choose to stop fighting and start talking.

We can choose to stop cutting others down and making them feel insignificant and start building others up and letting them know how important they are.

We can choose to let the anger go and find constructive ways to release the tension, like giving to others and loving them.

Each person in this world can choose to make it a better place.

My holiday hope is that everyone chooses love and peace.

I Cried in Class!

Yes, I really did cry in class. I was up in front, teaching a lesson, when tears filled my eyes. My students got a glimpse of my vulnerable side. It was a good thing, I think. I know it was a lesson they won’t soon forget.

In my psychology classes, we are just starting our unit on mental illness. Every year, I start this unit with a lesson about ending the stigma of mental illness and the importance of getting help if you are struggling with a mental illness.

The lesson started out simply enough; we defined stigma. Here’s the definition from the Cambridge Dictionary: “strong lack of respect for a person or a group of people or a bad opinion of them because they have done something society does not approve of:”

Then we looked specifically at the stigma associated with mental illness with this:

“Stigma refers to a cluster of negative attitudes and beliefs that motivate the general public to fear, reject, avoid and discriminate against people with mental illnesses. Stigma is not just a matter of using the wrong word or action. Stigma is about disrespect. It is the use of negative labels to identify a person living with mental illness. Stigma is a barrier. Fear of stigma and the resulting discrimination discourages individuals and their families from getting the help they need.” SAMHSA (Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration), School Materials for a Mental Health Friendly Classroom, 2004

We had a little discussion about their attitudes towards mental illness and some facts about it, like the fact that 1 in 5 teens will experience a mental illness, which means their life will most likely be impacted in one way or another by mental illness.

Then we watched a couple of videos of teens and young adults discussing the way in which a mental illness has impacted their lives.

I ended the lesson by discussing several ways that each individual can help end the stigma surrounding mental health issues. These include: get educated about mental illnesses, listen to people talk about their personal experience with mental illness, respond to stigmatizing material in the media, speak up about stigma and watch your language.

The “watch your language” explanation was when I cried. Let me explain what happened.

I have Anxiety, Depression, PTSD and OCD. Thankfully, at the moment I am not having an episode of any of them, they have all gotten the memo that they are not invited to my party and are, so far, staying away from me. However, many of my readers know that I experience some dark times, where I feel like I’m drowning. It was the memory of one of those times that made me cry.

One of the “bonuses” of working in a high school is overhearing teenage conversations. Statements like this are common place:

“Maybe I’ll just kill myself so I won’t have to do that project/assignment…”

“I had such an OCD moment last night, I cleaned and organized my entire room.”

“I can’t sit still today, I’m so ADHD right now.”

“Oh my God! I can’t believe I just did that. I’m so retarded!”

Now, I don’t know the mental health status of all my students, but when only 1 in 5 deals with a mental illness, I can be pretty sure that many of the students who make such statements are just using the terms as adjectives.

These are mental illnesses, not adjectives!

In order to explain how this kind of talk can be stigmatizing, I chose to describe how OCD effects me at it’s worst.

In case you don’t know what OCD is, it stands for Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder.

A person with this illness has obsessive behavior, things they have to do. It could be organizing their closet a certain way, it could be not driving over bridges, it could be having to check and recheck that the doors are locked every night before they go to bed. Whatever the behavior is, it’s obsessive.

Then there’s the compulsive part. That’s the thoughts and feelings that cause the obsessive behavior. Usually, this part involves a feeling of terror or panic. It is not just because the person has a moment and cleans their room.

So back to my story. I wanted to describe how OCD affects me.

Every evening I check all the doors to the house and make sure they’re all locked and the windows closed. In the summer a few windows are allowed to stay open if I’m not experiencing an OCD episode. However, whether I’m having an episode or not, the routine stays the same. That way if I’m having an episode of OCD, I won’t forget to do it.

When OCD is on vacation, I can check the doors once and go to bed, no problem. When OCD first comes for a visit, I will have to get out of bed a few times to check before I can fall asleep.

When OCD is at it’s most terrifying to me, I see the terrible thing that will happen to my family if I don’t get up and check the doors and windows.

OCD doesn’t let my brain just think about the terrible thing, no, OCD takes control of my imagination and shows me vivid images of it.

That’s when I cried. One of the vivid images took center stage in my brain, in the middle of the lesson. I’m not going to describe what I saw inside my head, but imagine the  worst,  gory, horror movie scene you’ve ever watched happening to your family. That’ll give you an idea of the images that flood my mind during an episode of OCD and that’s what filled my mind in that moment of my lesson.

So I cried.

They saw a mental illness’s effect on a real person that they see almost every day. Hopefully, it will help them to watch their language and realize those are mental illnesses, not adjectives.

P.S. I know that many people with OCD don’t have the same horrific images that I see. Some obsessions have much milder compulsions, but OCD is still intrusive and disruptive to the person’s life.

#endthestigma Proud Mom Brag

I have two awesome kids and I’m super proud of them a lot. They are both friendly, smart, and totally different from each other.

In this post I’m going to brag on my daughter, just to warn you.

If you don’t want to know the incredible thing she did this week, stop reading now.

If you do want to know what she did this week to make me so proud, please continue reading.

She’s in eighth grade and taking a leadership class. This past week they were assigned to give a short, informative presentation, like a TED talk, but only about 2 minutes long.

The students picked their topics and some were; the importance of the gas light in your car, art, phobias, being a blonde, being a brunette, there was even one about TED talks.

My daughter chose to talk about mental health disorders. She wanted students her age to understand how common mental health disorders are, how they affect people’s lives  and not to make fun of people who have them.

She cautioned people to not use the names of mental health disorders lightly. For example, saying you have OCD because you’re organized. She informed her classmates that saying those sorts of things can really hurt someone suffering from that mental health disorder

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The best thing is she didn’t even tell me about the talk; she usually goes about her school life without telling me what she’s doing. A student in her class told her mom about my daughter’s talk because it made such an impression on her. That mom came and told me.

When I asked my daughter about it, she shrugged it off like no big deal. She just thought people needed to know.

I can not put into words how proud I am.

#endthestigma