Tag: family

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.

Holidays Can Be Hard

Most people just assume this is the happiest time of the year. I mean there’s even a song that tells us it is, so it must be true. But for many people, the holidays are the hardest time of the year for many reasons.

For some it reminds them that someone is missing; that there is an empty place at the table, a hole in the family.

For others, the stress and demands of the season is over whelming, leaving them a burnt out grouch.

Some people are sent back to those times in childhood when they weren’t even good enough for Santa to bring them what they wanted while he brought that other kid in class the latest and greatest gadget or toy. Like maybe a Cabbage Patch Kid.

For little ones, the different schedule, the stress of their parents all takes a toll and changes their behavior, possibly causing them to act out.

So many reasons the holidays can be hard and not so happy.

If you are one of the thousands of people who struggles with the holidays know that you aren’t alone. Know that you’re feelings are valid, it’s okay to not be okay, even at Christmas. It’s okay to say no to that party and stay home with your family. It’s okay to cry while you remember the past Christmases with loved ones who are no longer here. It’s okay to hold onto the little ones a bit longer and tighter at bedtime and let them know that they’ll be okay too.

If you have a friend who struggles with the holidays just be there. They just need to know they’re not alone. If they want to talk, just listen; don’t offer advice or tell them to get over it or remind them that it’s the happiest time of the year. Just be there for them.

If you’re out in public and someone doesn’t wish you a Merry Christmas, don’t be offended, they may not be having the easiest time. Just smile and walk on.

The holidays can be hard.

Ten Things I’m Thankful For

I know I’m a few days late, but I want to take the time to list what I’m thankful for this year. I find that this time of year is often difficult for me, Anxiety, often tries to move back in and tell me that I’m not good enough, that I’m not doing enough, that I’m not happy enough, or not thankful enough.

So I’m not going to listen to Anxiety today. I’m going to focus on all that I am thankful for this year.

1.I’m thankful for my family. My husband and kids of course, but also my siblings, grandma’s, cousins, aunts, uncles, and in-laws who have chosen me and made me a part of their family.

2. I’m thankful for my friends. I don’t have a ton of super close friends, but I have a few friends that I know I can call for anything and I’m so thankful for them.

3. I’m thankful for my home. I grew up moving from house to house, never feeling like anywhere was home. When we moved into this house, it felt like home the first night and unless I can afford to move to Washington DC or the beach somewhere, this is my forever home.

4. I’m thankful for my job. I love teaching, even though some, make that most, days are exhausting. It’s nice to enjoy going to work each day.

5. I’m thankful for my students, especially the ones who get that I’m not there just to teach them the subject, but to teach them about life.

6. I’m thankful for my super powers. I don’t always enjoy anxiety when I’m suffering a terrible episode, but it has helped me to be organized and become a super planner and those are my super powers.

7. I’m thankful for all that I’ve learned about myself in my life. I’ve learned that I’m stronger than I ever thought possible. That I’m capable of doing good things. That I’m worthy of love.

8. I’m thankful that I’ve been able to write and publish a book and have an opportunity to impact people’s life that way.

9. I’m thankful for all the people who have had a positive influence in my life and shown me that there are good people in the world who do treat people with live, care and respect.

10. I’m thankful for my life. I haven’t always had the best life and I don’t always focus on what is good in my life, but I’m alive, I have an awesome family and friends who love me now. I’m glad to be alive.

I’m thankful for my life!

I’m glad I’m here!

I’m glad you’re here too!

My Shero is Gone

My Grandma, my Shero

The Oxford Dictionary defines shero as “a woman admired or idealized for her courage, outstanding achievements, or noble qualities; a heroine.”

I define a shero much more simply…my Grandma.

She passed away just a few days after my last post, making the darkness seem so much thicker. A few weeks ago I was able to spend five days with my sister and last weekend we had my Grandma’s celebration of life with the family. Remembering her has helped.

My Grandma is in most of my childhood memories, from family Thanksgiving celebrations to Fourth of July barbeques. Summer days pretending I could play her organ to knowing she’d taking me clothes shopping for my birthday just before school started so I’d have new school clothes instead of old clothes or hand me downs.

She was at my wedding and welcomed both my kids into the world.

She wasn’t just my shero for what she did for me though, but for who she was.

She was a high school athlete in the 1940s.

She was a young wife and mother, then later a single mom when she and my grandpa divorced.

She was capable of loving again when she married my other Grandpa.

She was active. She walked and took care of herself. She traveled.

Into her eighties, she hopped into her truck or van every September and drove to Iowa, Arkansas and Southern California before coming home at the end of the month. On the driving days she often just slept in her vehicle!

She was a hard worker. She worked as long as I knew her, even through most of her retirement.

She was strong. From the stories I’ve heard from her and other family members, her life wasn’t always easy, but she got through it all and became a strong, independent woman because of it.

She was also wise.

It’s the future now and I wish I would have spent more time with her when I had it.

She was an amazing woman and I hope I can be just a little bit like her.

Traveling With Anxiety

Our luggage for the 4 of us to be in Paris and London for 10 days.

On June 4th, my family was able to take a an incredible trip to Paris and London. I have wanted to go to Paris since I was 15 and learning French in Madame Funge’s class at Tokay High School. My daughter has wanted to go for thenpast four years, since she found out the Women’s World Cup Soccer Tournament was being held there this summer. My son wanted to see a play in London, and my husband is willing to travel pretty much wherever we want to go.

The thing is, we each have some form of anxiety or other mental health issue that makes travel so much more difficult for us.

I’m sharing this experience from my point of view, how travel with my family affects me and how I handle it as a person who has anxiety. I’m not a doctor or therapist and I can’t tell you how to do your life. I only want you to know that if you have anxiety, you’re not alone. If you have anxiety and want to travel, you can.

As much as I was looking forward to this trip, I was terrified of this trip. I have a child who needs to have structure, doesn’t do well with changes and is very picky about food. I have another child recovering from a concussion, I didn’t know how she’d handle an 11 hour plane ride or all the plans we had. Then there’s me and my brain, able to leap to the worst possible scenario in a single bound. All the “what if” questions that constantly swirl through my mind. Beginning with “what if we miss our flight?” to, “what if there’s a terrorist attack at the stadium?”

I’m telling you, I didn’t sleep more than 5 hours a night, on a good night, for weeks leading up to this trip or during the trip because of the thoughts.

So, what did I do to help myself?

First, I planned. Then planned some more. Finally, I did even more planning.

One page from my four page itinerary.

My family laughs at my itineraries, I make them for every trip we go on, except to the beach. It helps me stay calm while on the trip. All the decisions of where to go and what to see are done before we leave. I think they all secretly enjoy knowing what we’re doing too, because each evening they ask me what we’re doing the next day. I think they like knowing there’s a plan.

Planning also helps me make sure we have downtime. Especially for the concussed kid. She needed time to rest each day, whether that meant an early evening or an afternoon break. I can make sure we do that and don’t just let the day get away from us while we’re out sight seeing.

My family knows that traveling terrifies me and triggers my anxiety, but they also know, that I will never allow anxiety to stop me from traveling. There are so many places I want to explore.

It’s important for them to know that anxiety doesn’t rule my life. Sometimes it beats me up a little bit and knocks me around, but it doesn’t keep me down.

As nerve-wracking as this trip was, it was even more amazing, incredible, awesome. I got to see places I’ve only seen in pictures and movies, like the Eiffel Tower, the Seine, Notre Dame and the Pantheon. I got to see places I’d never even heard of before I started planning this trip like the Paris Catacombs or Novelty Animation in London. I got to see 2 Women’s World Cup Soccer matches in Paris, Matilda, the play, in London, the Harry Potter Studio in London and I got to go to Disneyland and Walt Disney Studios in Paris.

Not only did I get to do and see all that, but I was able to experience most of it with my whole family. (My husband got a sinus infection and had to skip out on a few things.) Sure, the kids argued some, and I was only able to get them in one picture, but we have memories that will last a lifetime.

Anxiety sucks! It will tell you that you can’t do things.

It lies!

You can do things!

Notre Dame

What I Learned From My Mom

It’s Mother’s Day and it’s Mental Health Awareness Month. Coincidence?

Maybe, but there are many, many people who struggle with their mental health partly because of the relationship they had with a parent.

There are many others who struggle with Mother’s Day in particular because of the loss of their mom or their inability to become a mom.

What I’m trying to say is, for some people, Mother’s Day takes a toll on their mental health, including me.

So this year I decided to look at all the positive things I learned from my Mom and put them in a list ( I love lists.)

  1. I learned to be resilient. According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary resilient means having the ability to recover easily from misfortune or change or capable of withstanding shock without permanent deformation. Those who know my story know I’ve been through a lot of junk and I’m not permanently deformed because of it, I’ve been able to recover and have a wonderful family and life that I love.
  2. I learned how to be a mom. Growing up, I kind of made a mental list of what not to do as a parent. Once I became a mom, I used that list to be the best mom I could be. I’m sure I make mistakes, but I’m doing the best job I can at being a mom, based on what I learned from my mom of what not to do as a mom.
  3. I learned to show and tell my kids I love them. I may not be the most hugging mom in the world, but there are plenty of other ways for me to show and tell my kids I love them. For one thing, I do actually tell them that I love them. Then I’m there for them. I listen to them, encourage them, talk them through things, support them…so many ways to show live besides just giving hugs and pats on the back.
  4. I learned to take care of myself. I may not have been an excellent chef, but I learned to cook, clean, hold down a job, and take care of the bills all well enough that I’ve been able to be in my own since I was eighteen. Being able to take care of myself has expanded to being able to take care of my family as well.
  5. I learned to ask for help. I watched my mom struggle on her own for years, too proud to ever ask for help. That taught me to never be too proud to ask for help. I’ve sought help for my mental health through both medication and counseling. I’ve asked for help in my marriage and as a parent. I’ve had mentors at work. I go to a doctor and dentist regularly.This life is too hard to do alone, I need all the help I can get.

This holiday can be hard, but today I chose to look at just a few of then positive things my mom taught me. It helped.

The best part of the day though, that I know not everyone has, are my two kids who made me a Mom and allow me to celebrate Mother’s Day from a different perspective.

They hate pictures.

Lin Manuel Miranda Sent My Son A Letter!

One of my son’s current obsessions is the musical Hamilton by Lin Manuel Miranda. A few months ago, he sat down and rewrote some of the songs to be PG, since some of them aren’t appropriate for kids. When he was done, he looked up Lin Manuel Miranda’s P.O box, printed out the PG version of the songs, wrote a note about how amazing a junior version of the musical would be and mailed it all to him.

Today my son received a reply. It was specific to the note my son sent to him and was signed with Lin Manuel Miranda’s autograph. I’m pretty sure that nothing he receives for Christmas this year is going to be as good as getting a letter from Lin Manuel Miranda.

In all reality though, the best Christmas gift any of us received was given about 2000 years ago, on that very first Christmas. I’m not usually preachy on this blog, but Jesus is important to me, and I’m going to take time to share about him today.

There have been many religions throughout history. Each has their own version of creation, God and how to get to heaven.

In Christianity, God created the Heavens and the earth and everything on the earth. Then he sent his son Jesus to be born of a virgin. Jesus lived for 33 years before being crucified as a sacrifice for our sins, so that we could be justified before God, in order to be able to enter Heaven. All we have to do is believe that.

That’s it.

Believe that Jesus was born to die as a sacrifice for our sins.

The best Christmas gift ever.

Something we could never earn.

Something we don’t deserve.

Something we are freely given because of God’s love for each one of us.

So while my son is basking in the excitement of having a letter from Lin Manuel Miranda this Christmas, I will remind him of the best Christmas gift ever…

Jesus.

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: “a 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

.

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

Fantastic New Song by Avril Lavigne

I have been having a fantastic, busy past few weeks, I haven’t even had much time to blog, so I’ll give a quick update before I introduce this amazing new song.

Last year, I started having a hard time with the anti-anxiety medication I was on. It made me not care about anything and all I ever wanted to do was sleep, I was always sooooooo tired. I like to get one medication out of my system before starting another one, so I asked my doctor is I could take the summer off any medication so that I could see how I do without it. It’s been years since I haven’t been on medication and while it initially works, each one I’ve been on has ultimately left me feeling exhausted and not caring about anything.

By the end of May, I was off medication and I tried natural ways to relieve my anxiety. I have a regular bedtime that I do my best to keep, whether its a weekday or not. I do my best to stay away from food that is made more out of chemicals than real food. I drink far less soda than I used to and way more water. I also walk two miles most mornings before I do anything else and practice yoga stretching and breathing exercises while listening to a local Christian radio station,which a friend of mine DJs on.

Overall, I feel so much better. I have energy that I didn’t have at the end of my run with medication. I’m feeling physically fit, I can walk two miles in 30 minutes. I’m losing weight from eating better foods. I don’t feel anxious all the time about every little thing.

Having said that, my anxiety is not completely gone. I still have the occasional panic attack, complete with rapid breathing, tears, and my whole body shaking. Sometimes I know what situation has caused it, sometimes I don’t. What I do know is that all I have to do to get through it, is focus on something relaxing, and take some deep breaths until the panic passes.

I still worry about random things too. For example, this past week I was in Washington DC, where I used public transportation to get around. It was hot there, but I wouldn’t wear shorts because I didn’t want to put my bare legs on the seats in the subway trains because somebody else may have put there bare legs there. It doesn’t even matter though because I’m going to take a shower, so who cares? I did. Little things like that still cause me excessive worry, but I can function. I just wore pants and went on with my life, the same exact germs that I didn’t want on my legs got on my pants instead. It all worked itself out in the end and I had a fantastic time taking new people to one of my favorite places.

Now, to this song by Avril Lavigne, called “Head Above Water”.  The words of the song tell my story and the story of so many others who suffer with anxiety. It’s beautiful and heart-wrenching. Thank you Avril Lavigne for putting these feelings into such an amazing song and video.

This song brings hope!