Tag: love

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.

Yay, We Made It!

We did it. We’ve reached the end of another year and another decade! That’s pretty darn impressive if you ask me. Not only did we survive the last 365 days, we’ve survived the last 10 years!

For some people that may not seem like such a big deal, but for people who deal with mental illness that can be a huge accomplishment. I’m talking gigantic. Humongous. Enormous. Let’s just say, it’s definitely something to talk about.

For so many people, just getting out of bed each day is a struggle. When you add on to that work, and eating and possibly taking care of other people, like spouses or children who depend on you, each task can seem monumental and exhausting.

Because of this, the fact that we are all here, at the end of 2019 is amazing! I’m so glad we’ve all made it this far on this ride called life.

As we look back at the past year, or decade (or week) and we see all that we’ve been through, both good and bad, let’s be thankful that we are here. We. Are. Here. We have survived until this point and we have learned how strong we are through the trials of life. Our strength will continue to carry us through the days, weeks, months and years to come.

Each moment we have, both good and bad, will pass; nothing lasts forever. The good moments leave us with happy memories that we can grasp and look back on to remember the good times when things aren’t going so good. they remind us that things can be happy. The bad times teach us about our strength, they give us insight to ourselves and others and they show us life lessons. We can use what tough times teach us the next time that the going gets tough. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.

As I look forward I hope that 2020 is a great year for everybody, as perfect as the vision it promises (ha ha, okay bad joke.)

I have stopped making resolutions because they usually only last me about a day. I do make life changes though, sometimes in January, sometimes at other times of the year. So far, the life changes I’ve made have helped me in managing my mental illnesses much more successfully and I plan to continue that in the New Year.

I hope that if you make resolutions or make life changes that you stick to them and they make your life better and more fulfilled. I hope that you are able to manage your mental, emotional and physical health throughout the New Year.

Thank you all for reading my blog. If you haven’t done it already, please subscribe to get the blog delivered to your email whenever I write a new post (usually on Saturdays, but this is a “Special New Year’s Eve Edition”).

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.

A Switch Has Flipped

I’ve been feeling extremely good for a long time. I’ve had a few anxious moments, but no bouts of anxiety lasting for weeks,or worse, months. It’s been nice, like a little vacation for my brain.

A few weeks ago, however, I had an anxiety attack at school during my prep period. My students left the classroom and a feeling of impending doom came over me.My heart began to race, my breaths were quick and shallow. It seemed to hit me out of nowhere. I wasn’t particularly stressed or worried about anything. Luckily, I knew exactly what it was and practiced some techniques to get it under control and the whole episode lasted maybe two minutes from start to finish. I gathered up the stuff I needed and got to work, feeling back to normal.

The whole incident slipped my mind until a few days later, when I needed to make dinner for my family. I like to cook,i enjoy creating something from the ingredients I have. It’s usually relaxing to me and something I look forward to. That day, I didn’t want to cook. It wasn’t that there wasn’t much time so we were going to make sandwiches, even those can be a fun creation. I. DIDN’T. WANT. TO. MAKE. DINNER.

A few days after that was the weekend. I hadn’t written a blog in a while and I told myself that I needed to write one, but I didn’t want to write. Me, Mishell Wolff, who has enjoyed writing since I was seven years old. I DIDN’T WANT TO WRITE!

This past week, I was driving my daughter to soccer practice, dreading the drive, dreading being there, dreading seeing people. For reference, I have an amazingly fun car to drive and most of the drive to her practice is through the country where I get to legally drive fairly fast. It’s fun. Usually. And I usually don’t mind seeing and talking to the coach and the other parents, most of us are friends at this point. I also enjoy watching her practice or sitting in the shade or in my car reading or playing on my phone. But last week, I didn’t want to do any of it. I almost cried as I drove her there.

I feel like somebody came in and flipped my light switch off. I feel like I’m sitting in the dark. I feel like the brain vacation is over, but instead of anxiety coming for a visit this time, it’s depression; anxiety’s darker twin.

Some of the signs of depression are a feeling of sadness and despair and a loss of interest in activities that you once enjoyed. I’ve definitely been experiencing those for the past few weeks.

Lucky for me , I guess, is that I know the signs of depression and I can tell when they are sneaking into my brain. I know the light switch will eventually get flipped back on.

But I hat how I’m feeling now!

I didn’t even want to write today. In fact I wrote this blog early this morning and something went wrong with my WordPress app and it deleted everything I wrote, so this is the second time today that I have sat down to write this. I know though, that if I want to get the switch flipped back on, I have to do the things I like to do, even if for now I don’t enjoy doing them.

I know I can’t give in to the darkness and sadness I feel.

I know I’m not alone.

If you or someone you know is experiencing depression, anxiety or any other mental health issue they can text the crisis line at 741741.

Or call the suicide prevention line at 1-800-273-8255

Love Yourself

Who is guilty of negative self-talk? You know what I mean, phrases we say to ourselves that we would never say to another human being and definitely never to our favorite pet.

Phrases like:

“You’re such an idiot, I can’t believe you did or said that!”

“You’re such a fatty, you need to stop eating! No more dessert for you!”

“You’re so worthless, nobody could ever love you!”

“You are such a waste of space.”

I’m here waving my hands in the air. I’m guilty of this type of negative self-talk and so much more. Things I hope would never be said about another person, I say to and about myself. I’m sure I’m not the only one.

Too many of us are too critical no ourselves and our lives show it. We are in terrible mental and physical health because we think we aren’t worth taking care of.

We are! We are worth it! We need to give ourselves.

I hear people say “I hate my body. I need to lose weight. I should diet, maybe I’ll start exercising.”

Do you hear what the motivation is? Hate. Hatred of their body. Does hate ever sustain anything. It can for awhile, but not forever.

We need to take care of ourselves because we love ourselves, not because we hate ourselves.

On July 5th last year, I decided I was worth it. I needed to love myself.

I began to eat healthier, not because I hated myself or my body, but because I love myself and want to be around for awhile. I know we can’t prevent all diseases, but we can make food choices that are better for us.

I also began to exercise. Again, not because I hate my body and wanted to punish it and the fat it was storing, but because I want my body to last for awhile longer. If I make it to a ripe old age, I want to be able to move. I want to keep my muscles and bones strong enough to support my body, I don’t want to be impeded by my choices. I want to be able to run after my hypothetical grandkids.

There have been positive consequences to choosing to love myself. My anxiety and depression are easier to manage without medication, I have lost weight and I’m a lot stronger both physically and mentally.

Please, love yourself and take care of you. There are people who want you in their life for years to come.

People With Mental Illness Should Be Hospitalized?!?!? #endthestigma

About a year ago, my doctor and I decided that I would try to manage my anxiety and depression without medication. This decision didn’t come lightly or because I’m anti-medication. It came because after years of trying different medications, with great success in the beginning, each one ended the same way; with me in bed, not having the energy or the motivation to do anything for anyone, even my children. After the last dismal failure of a medicine, I decided that I had enough of the roller coaster of emotions that they had been putting me on and I was going to try life without the meds.

I was scared.

I knew it would be difficult. I knew I would have to make changes. I knew I could do it though. I knew I had a strong support system.

One change I made right from the start was limiting social media. However, the past few weeks, I have fallen back into the habit of scrolling Facebook to see what my friends are up to. I quickly realized that was a mistake.

I saw this on there:

I’m mentally ill. My husband has a mental illness, my son has a mental illness. I have friends with mental illnesses.

I wasn’t aware that we all needed to be hospitalized. I’ll admit that there are some people with mental illness who might be a danger to themselves or others and may need to be hospitalized for a time, but in general, I don’t think that’s where we need to be.

People with mental illnesses can be teachers, doctors, police officers, nurses, students, hair stylist, singers, actors, plumbers, electricians, fire fighters, paramedics, lawyers, judges, we can have whatever job we want and train for. We can even be politicians.

According to the National Council for Behavioral Health, almost 50 percent of American adults will experience a mental illness in their lifetime.

That would be a lot of people taking up space in the hospital!

Now really, I know that mentally I’ll people do not need to be hospitalized. I truly hope the people who posted this image also know that.

What I also want them to know is that by posting images like this, they are adding to the stigma of mental illness.

They are making it more difficult for someone who may be struggling to feel strong enough to ask for help without fear of being judged.

They are causing people who struggle to stay hidden in the darkness for dear of being hospitalized or shunned or made fun of.

Please just stop.

Here’s a sign I see in lots of schools. Let’s apply it to everyone, not just kids.

And let’s apply it to social media too. Just because nobody can see you post it doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt people.

Tears filled my eyes when I saw the image about mentally ill people being hospitalized.

My heart ached for all the others who would see it and possibly feel the same as me.

Broken.

Not good enough.

Hurt.

Angry.

Determined to…

Redbubble.com

Letter to My Students

I end each year of school with a letter to my seniors with words of advice and encouragement for moving on. This year I decided to give that letter to all the students in my sociology classes. And now I will share it with you.

This is my last chance to socialize you. My last opportunity to teach you some important life lessons; some of the “latent functions” of education or parts of the “hidden curriculum.” I hope you take it in and choose to learn from it, but that’s up to you; I can only put it out there.

Know your worth. There are some mean people in this world who make it there point to cut other people down and for some reason we tend to believe what they say about us. DO NOT DO THAT! THEY ARE WRONG! You are an amazing human being with so much to offer this world. You have friendship to offer, you have your sense of humor, or your wit, or sarcasm, or athleticism, or intelligence, or understanding, or… or…or… You have so much to offer. You are so valuable! Know that! Know your worth! If people treat you as though you are worthless, get them out of your life, because you are valuable beyond compare.

Love people. There is enough hate and division in this world, so love people. Unless they are personally hurting you, love people. Hate takes too much energy. If what people are doing goes against what you believe, but it doesn’t interfere with your life, let them be and love people. If it does interfere with your life, move on without them and love people.

Love yourself. I’m not talking about being conceited and arrogant and all about yourself. I’m talking about loving yourself enough to take care of you. You have to be important to you. You need to love yourself enough to exercise, eat right, to seek out doctors to help keep you healthy and friends to talk to when things get tough. There are so many important things that go along with loving yourself. Figure out what those things are for you and do them. Make you a priority in life, not something to get around to if you have time. If you don’t make time to take care of yourself and keep yourself healthy both mentally and physically, you will be forced to make the time when you get ill.

Be humble. Never put yourself above others. It is possible to love yourself and still build others up. Life isn’t a competition, we all just want to survive. Always bragging about yourself just tears others down and makes them feel worse about themselves, so be humble. Accept praise with a polite “thank you,” and you’ll be well on your way to being humble.

It’s been a great privilege to have been your teacher this year. Good luck in all your future endeavors. I hope to hear great things about you. You are amazing!

Have Fun! Be Safe! Make Good Choices!

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.