Seat at the Table

There has been much discussion with my therapist on just where my seat at the table would be.

In fact, which table do I even sit at?

Wait, do I even have a table?

Where's my table?

Will my seat still be available at my table?

I've been asked not to return to certain tables.

I actually find gratitude in that request(s).

One of my feelings/emotions/thoughts on Tuesday night was that I had a seat at a table again.

I expressed that to T with joy.

I know that I have a seat at the Robb table.

I know that I have a seat at T's table.

I know for dang sure that I have a seat at my own table, in my home, with my children.

But, so many questions about tables in my mind.

Then, this.

This picture came to me.

This is God's table.

This table winds endlessly.

There is a seat for everyone at that table.

Everyone who chooses to be there has a seat at this table.

And isn't it beautiful?

Peaceful?

Glorious.

With a seat for everyone.

Everyone.

Someone Like Her

So, continuing on from my family blog...

Last night I said, "YESSSSS!!!"

Not to my upteenth marriage proposal, People.

To a Church calling.

I said "YES" before the Bishop even told me what the calling was!

And there is so much I have to say about it!

So, I start from the beginning.

The bishop and I met last night.

We meet somewhat frequently.

Our relationship has evolved.

For that, I am grateful.

After talking and counseling, he asked me if I would accept a calling in the ward.

I put my hands together and said, "YESSSSS!"

Then he asked if I wanted to know what the calling was...

Okay, fine.

It's still a "YESSSSS!"

My thoughts in that moment were:

I have a seat at the table.

I belong.

I have a place here.

My feelings were:

Joy.

Excitement.

Joy.

A lot of joy.

Then my thought was:

I have to call T!

I can't wait to tell T!
I cannot wait to tell my boys!

My boys will be in Sandy this weekend for Halloween.

I want them with me on Sunday when I am sustained and set apart.

I can't wait to ask them to be home early to be there with me.

Oh, can we just be done here??
I can't wait to share my JOY!

Then, the bishop asked me if I was still communicating with my T.

Of course I am.

Daily.

Then, he told me this story:

He is currently working with a male in the ward with similar issues as mine (addiction, etc.)

He told me that this male doesn't have a T.

He doesn't have anyone to be his "sponsor."

He told me that his heart breaks as he meets with him because he just doesn't know if he can make it through this difficult road without a T.

Then my heart broke, as it about burst with gratitude for my T.

I talk about my T.

But, no one (not even I) realize what it's like to be T.

T is married with four children.

She works from home and raises and rears her own children.

She has a very busy Church calling.

And yet, so much of her time and energy is spent walking beside me and at times carrying me over her shoulder, through this very, very hard journey.

It's true, though.

I, too, worry about this male who remained nameless.

I, too, worry that the loneliness, the abuse, the neglect, the depression... whatever it is that pushed him into addiction... will be too strong of a hold on him without a T.

The bishop told me of training he went through last week.

It was about addiction.

What causes addiction?

Why addiction?

And what he shared with me was on point.

Then, I shared with him this:

Last weekend I was LONELY.

All alone and LONELY.

Two choices:

Addiction: call, text, run to someone long enough to not feel

Heidi 2.0: sit with it. Just be lonely. Just let it be. 

I chose 2.0.

And, then I told T that I chose 2.0.

And she celebrated with me as if it brought HER joy.

When I left the bishop's office last night, I called her first thing.

On video chat, of course.

I literally was so full of excitement and joy.

Her children were all around, busy and tired and hungry.

She was tired and busy and hungry, I'm sure.

But, she took those moments to share in my joy and my excitement.

Then, she took more time after we hung up to send me messages that she was proud of me.

My heart breaks for those who don't have a T.

My heart explodes that I have mine.

Today, I Write

Today, my mind is all aghast with thoughts and feelings.

Memories and emotions.

Conflicting wars that seem endless.

And I'm not running. 

I am sitting.

Front row.

Experiencing all of it.

Feeling the feelings, but not becoming the emotion.

Witnessing it. Allowing it. Releasing it.

Like balloons that weigh me down until I untie them from my wrist and let them go.

Some balloons must be released more than once... in fact over and over.

And that is okay.

Today, and every day, I practice being strong.

Today, I don't let that extra five pounds on the scale weigh me down.

I forgive myself for eating a little extra bread and ice cream.

I motivate myself to stop.

I congratulate myself for not feeling guilt when laying in my bed at 6 pm, resting from the days feelings and emotions.

I remind myself that cognitive and emotional fatigue are non-negotiable... dissimilar to physical fatigue.

Today, I look ahead to holidays.

Katryna and I discussed the upcoming holidays last week during our appointment.

They will look very different this year for me.

So, I plan and I prepare for what that picture paints.

Today, I recognize that loneliness is a real emotion.

It is thoughts that turn into emotion, then feelings.

These have always mathematically added up to returning to toxic relationships (not always romantic, by the way).

Loneliness cumulatively meant running.

Being alone with my thoughts this weekend was a real story problem.

I never was good at story problems.

I never quite understood why we had to discover how many apples a corn farmer had after harvesting wheat.

Now, I discover real story problems in my own thoughts when being alone with myself, in my head...

I discover that I don't need to run, but sometimes want to, but don't, and thus feel proud, yet drained and exhausted from solving such stories... always in my head.

Similar to trying to understand why a corn farmer would be harvesting wheat and how apples came to be on such a farm anyways.

And I think about how sometimes I am not brave.

Some days I depend on others - Miss Birdie, T...

To remind me that I'm doing just fine.

Being brave and being strong are not always the same two things...

Like corn and wheat are not the same thing...

So, again... why am I trying to figure out how many apples on a corn farm after wheat is harvested?

Today, I practice self care by forgiving myself for being at work in my pajamas;

By being kind to myself after stepping on the scale and noticing a weight increase.

By surrounding myself with people who are actually rooting for my rise.

By hugging my boys tightly.

Warrior Mode

Ryan sent me a bunch of pictures last week.

Looking at them brings a lot of feelings and emotions.

Four kids in four years isn't for the faint of heart.

Four kids with health issues REALLY isn't for the faint of heart.

I did it on my own for the most part.

Yes, I had family help. 

For the most part, I was on auto-pilot.

Again, I wasn't feeling feelings or emotions.

I didn't know how.

When my kids were sick or in the hospital, or when I was changing four kids diapers at the same time daily, I was on auto-pilot.

I advocated for them in the best ways I could.

The best ways I knew how.

Kaydon had a hospice nurse, who came in twice a week.

She was a God-send.

She would love on ALL of the boys so I could run to the grocery store, or take a bath or just sit in the bathroom and cry for an hour.

I had amazing visiting teachers/life-long friends, who would help me to escape to Cafe Rio for an hour.

Warrior Mode almost always has a drop-off point. 

I hit mine repeatedly.

And then I REALLY hit it.

Back to doing my best now...

Things Break

"This was my hallway last Wednesday.

Broken. Sharp. Treacherous.

This was my hallway.

It was my son who did this.

Sometimes, often really, things break - irreparably. And it takes your breath away ... straight away.

It took my breath away when my son stormed into the bathroom, frustrated, angry, fed-up for his very own, very significant to him, reasons. And when he chose to SLAM the bathroom door, causing the heavy mirror mounted to the front to slip out of the hardware holding it in place and crash onto the floor - a million, BROKEN pieces were left reflecting the afternoon light.

I was quiet. I surveyed the damage and took a deep breath. Put the dog outside so he wouldn't cut his feet, put the cat in the basement for the same reason.

I walked into the backyard and felt the hot tears streaming down my face. It's amazing how alone you can feel as a single parent in moments like these. I realized how scared and disappointed I felt. Did this really just happen? Yes. This was real.

And as I stood and considered whether or not this was an indication of his developing character, I heard his tears through the window above me, coming from inside the bathroom.

His soul hurt. This was not what he expected either. Hello, Anger - I don't remember inviting you into my house.

Scary.

Terrified.

Ashamed.

Worried.

Scared.

Deep breath, #MamaWarrior. Deep breath. That small, fragile soul needs you right now. He needs your very best. Your biggest compassion. Your most gentle and firm mama love and reassurance. More deep breaths. Go Mama.

Go. Go now. Go open the front door, tiptoe through the broken glass, hear him hearing you coming, watch the bathroom door crack open, see the face you love most in the world red with worry and wet with tears, his voice is suddenly so small: "Mama, I'll never do it again, I am SO sorry." More tears. More weeping. Such uncertainty on his sweet face.

Go Mama. Get him. Go now. Scoop him into your lap. Yup, you're crying too. Damn this was big. Hold him tight. Watch how he curls into a ball in your arms so quickly. See how eager he is to be loved by you. To be reassured by you. See how small he still is. See how fragile that spirit is.

I love you.

You are safe.

I am right here.

The worst part is over now.

I've got you.

I'm here.

I love you.

Go Mama. Tell him about Anger. Tell him now. Anger is a really powerful feeling. You have a right to your Anger. Anger burns hot. It can purify. It can also destroy. He nods. He feels it. He's met Anger now.

There's a better way to show your big feelings.

We'll work on it together .... tomorrow.

I'm here to help you.

You are safe.

You are never alone in your anger.

You are never alone in your fears.

I'm here. We're here together.

Now we will clean together.

And we cleaned up the broken pieces. We swept and we vacuumed. It was quiet work. It was careful work. It was thoughtful work.

Sometimes things break. Sometimes we break them. It's not the breaking that matters, the how or why. What matters is how we choose to respond to the broken-ness. Does it kill us? Does it throw us into a downward spiral of blame and punishment?

OR

Does it help us remember how to love deepest? Does it push us towards compassion and over the hurdle of "rightness" and "wrongness" into LOVENESS?

Yes. LOVENESS.

Go Mama. Go now. Get that baby of yours. Teach that. Show that. Live that. It's called LOVENESS. Go. Now."

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#LoveWhatMatters

Submitted by Kathleen Fleming & Majestic Unicorn

Lovingly Direct

For real. For real.

Counseling on Wednesday was good.

It's been a couple of weeks since I've seen her.

We were scheduled to see each other every other week, then on my appointment week I got strep throat.

It was good to be back and get caught up on things.

So much to talk about. 

Katryna had me start reading a book a few months ago.

I jumped right in and was reading it and taking notes.

And then it got to a point in the book, and in counseling, where that book was so full of triggers for me that I could only read a paragraph at a time.

It was rough!
She asked me about it on Wednesday.

I explained that it was a trigger book for me and that someday I would finish it, but it wasn't going to be today!

She asked me how twelve step group was going.

I told her I hadn't been in three weeks because I was dashing on Sunday nights.

She really didn't have to say anything because her face said it ALL, but she sure as heck still said, "That's a priority and you need to get back."

T has been telling me the same thing.

Both of them are right, and I look forward to going on Sunday.

After counseling, I always message T.

If I don't message her, she messages me right away.

I told her on Wednesday that she and Katryna are basically the same person.

Lovingly direct.

To the point.

"Don't be offended, but..."

That kind of direct.

I am so blessed to have both of them!

Back to 12-step:

Sometimes as addicts, or really anyone who is struggling with mental illness, addiction, character flaws, health issues, etc.

We get to a point where we are comfortable.

We get to a point where we feel that we are in a good place.

We get to a point where we feel confident in where we are and what we are doing.

Katryna reminded me that I have done nothing, NOTHING to show a relapse of any kind.

Nothing.

However, she said, it is important (imperative, really) that we keep doing what we are doing and what we were doing to get to this point.

She said that as we stop doing these important things: taking our medicine, going to counseling, going to group, doing our affirmations, exercising, eating a healthy diet for our health issues, etc., we start to slip and we don't realize that we need to go back to doing those things until we have done something or something has happened to make us realize that we needed those things all along.

We need to stick with it all.

For the long haul.

And keep plugging away.

This Time

Guess what?
Rough freaking couple of weeks!

Guess what?

No relapse of any kind!

Guess what?

I went to my T. I talked to her about what I was feeling - at least what I could describe at the time.

Then I messaged her back later. 

And I told her what I was really feeling.

That girl of mine.

Gosh, Heavenly Father knew I needed her.

Every step of every day of my life.

She sent me a Venmo transfer with these words, "Cancel your dash gig for tonight."

And, I did.

I didn't go to the gym.

I didn't dash.

I didn't clean the carpets like I needed to.

I didn't clean the bathrooms like I needed to.

I didn't organize the storage closet like I needed to.

I started the dishwasher.

I did my laundry.

And, I laid in my bed for the rest of the night until I went to dreamland.

And, that's exactly what I needed to do.

Everything has felt very heavy.

Very overwhelming.

Very scary.

Very anxiety-ridden.

Very sad.

Very hard.

So, I rested this body that is under the weight of hard things right now.

And, that's okay.

Miss Birdie sent me this:

Oh, so much this. 

I never realized this.

All of this.

I'm not depending on getting validation from any other human anymore.

It's no longer needed.

I am enough.

I am healing.

From so many years of hurt and pain and confusion.

I am on the exact trail I should be on in this journey.

I am not rebuilding, but building period.

Learning. Growing. Developing. Budding.

I'm discovering all of the pieces of me, and slowly putting them together in this beautifully imperfect mosaic that is Heidi.

I am being so much kinder to my soul.

My soul that I am getting to know every day.

This beautiful soul that God gifted me with.

This soul that is strong and brave and feisty, yet fragile and delicate.

I am not doing it alone, yet I'm doing it by myself - without the need to have someone else validate it all for me.

I'm checking off each box all by my dang self.

This.

Self Care

My schedule is crazy-busy.

Work, then the other job, then the other job, then the fourth job, then making sure the fifth job is getting done by the children...

Oh, and the children:

They are the most important of all...

Are they fed? Are they well? Do they have school stuff? Of course they do.

Is the house clean-ish? Is there toilet paper? Is there running water? Is there heat? Are there enough blankets?

Is there medicine for the colds and tummy bugs floating through my home?

Do the boys need extra loves and extra doses of comfort? 

Are the bills paid?

Are the cars running?

Are appointments being made and attended to?

The list truly goes on and on and on...

Single parenthood is not for the weak, I tell ya!

T reminded me last night that I am going to collapse.

She reminded me that I have to do my self care in between all of this.

And, she's right.

I have only been going to the gym 2-3 days a week.

That's not enough for me.

My body and my mind need that time - with my ear phones in and my Diet Coke and just work.

Walk, lift, stretch... work my body and connect my mind and my body together. 

I need to be there 5+ days a week.

I went Saturday and it was just what I needed.

After I dashed for seven hours, I went to get my nails painted.

This place has been my happy place since my stroke.

They are SO good to me.

They painted my nails, then rubbed my arms and my hands... just because.

Then they told me to go sit in one of the new massage chairs.

Aunt Flo rubbed my feet and my legs, painted my toes, took off all of the dead skin from the entire summer... while I fell asleep in the chair. Literally.

Sweet Jackie, in the background never allows me to pay... and if she does, it's never full price.

It was exactly what I needed.

We have to take care of ourselves. 

Physically, emotionally, spiritually.

Self care may look different for you than it looks for me.

And, that's okay.

Do what is best for you.

Without self care, we cannot conquer what is in front of us each day.

And, it's a lot.

For some, it might be drinking a hot chocolate.

Or sitting in a bath by ourselves - without children!

It might be baking cookies.

It might be face-timing a friend.

It might be working out, or going for a walk.

It might be sitting outside for an hour.

It might be reading for 15 minutes.

Listening to a podcast of music.

Whatever it is, do it!

The First Time

The first time I ran away was when I was a very young girl.

I didn't go far.

In fact, I went directly across the hallway from my bedroom.

I went to the bathroom.

I stayed for three days and nights.

In the bathroom.

I did not emerge once.

From the bathroom.

I made the bathtub into a bed.

I made the sink into a rotten cereal bowl.

And I stayed there.

I didn't come out.

I was escaping.

When my dad returned from a business trip, I came out.

That was the first time.

The first of many, many times.

However, the future times were almost always emotionally running away. 

To wherever and whatever I could.

As I have been a runner, I have found different people and places to run to.

Away from my life.

It wasn't chemical-based.

It was emotional based.

And I didn't care that it didn't work.

I just needed to run.

And I did.

Busy. Busy. Busy.

All the time.

Keeping myself preoccupied with running so that I didn't have to try to figure out why I was feeling the way I was since I had no idea what feelings meant or what to do with them.

Now, I stay busy for a different reason.

A more healthy reason.

I work a 9 hour day.

Then I go work for 3 - 5 hours more.

I work out. 

I clean the house.

I grocery shop.

I sell makeup and CBD.

I am on the leader team of our CBD company.

I keep busy to strengthen myself.... not run away from myself.

I keep busy to strengthen my family... not to run away from our issues and problems.

I love to take my boys so much and I am so grateful that I can be there and present in ways I haven't in past years.

Addiction often begins with running away from our feelings, our experiences, our environment...

It's about running from pain and anxiety.

It's about running from feelings that we don't understand.

It's about trying so hard to hide from and to numb pain.

Then we are stuck.

Stuck in addiction.

Stuck in cycles.

Stuck in pain.

Until we aren't anymore.

In Actuality...

As my recovery and treatment began four months ago, the overall consensus was that I had an addiction to men.

Not in a sexual manner.

Not even in a physical manner.

In the manner that I sought attention, time, approval, affection (emotional mostly) and care from men.

I agreed with this initial "diagnosis."

I immediately began to work on that issue -

The issue of being addicted to men.

As I began counseling, and 12-step group, I was focused singularly on that addiction.

Then, counseling REALLY began.

Like, here we go...

We are no longer on the kiddie bumper cars - we are now on the roller coaster that surely will kill at least a dozen people each year.

There was an entire 42 years of trauma that was coming out of this invisible closet that we were opening and cleaning out.

Side note:

Twice a year, I'd clean out my kids' dresser drawers.

I'd throw away stuff.

I'd pass it down to the next kid.

I'd remind the boys that they actually had more than one pair of shorts.

Etc.

It drove me out of my mind!

Once they were old enough to do their own laundry and to buy their own clothes, I stopped.

Cleaning out closets and drawers and such has never been my #1 chore...

And, here I am cleaning out a closet that has had stuff shoved in it for 42 ever-living years, People.

As I began to understand the trauma...

As I began to learn about feelings and that I could have them and that it was normal to have them...

As I began to really feel...

As I began to trudge through all of the chaos and difficulty and pain and confusion...

I understood that my addiction was not, in fact, men.

My addiction was all-encompassing.

I didn't care of you were male, female, gay, straight, old, young, rich, poor, democrat, republican...

I wanted so desperately to be seen.

To be heard.

To be loved.

To be accepted.

To be adored.

To be embraced.

By anyone.

I have learned a few pretty dang important lessons:

1 - The way my Heavenly Parents see me and hear me and love me is not comparable to anyone in the mortal form. I need to understand that relationship, embrace it, and feed it.

2 - It is not my job to make anyone love me. It is not my job to be who people want me to be. It is not my job to fit into a mold that people have created for me. It is not my job to fit their perceptions.

3 - I have the ability to break the cycle now. It's never too late. Ever. 

4 - Addiction is for real. It will grab hold of you and take away all agency. It will become your everything. It will blind you, deafen you, and deplete you. Addictions are present for a reason. Find the reason with a professional and work toward treatment and recovery.

5 - Boundaries. Boundaries. Boundaries. 

Voice Your Convictions

There is a specific phrase in my Patriarchal Blessing that reads, "Voice your convictions."

Now, People...

I have to be careful with this phrase. 

I need to find my filter...

Which is lost most of the dang time.

I have to really decide if it is worth it - if it is productive to voice my convictions...

For instance: am I voicing my convictions to prove a point, to hurt someone the way they have hurt me, to slam someone?

Or, am I voicing my convictions to establish my boundaries, to be productive, to respect my own feelings and needs?

There are big differences, and it's important to know them.

I have really grown in this area, I feel, in the last four months.

I have chosen not to respond to conversations because I have felt that doing so would not be productive.

I have felt that doing so would only contribute to an already negative relationship.

I have felt that by doing so - I would only be feeding those people's thoughts and feelings.

If it isn't productive, leading to positivity - then I don't want to involve myself in it.

I have also learned that sharing my feelings is not something I need to do with everyone.

There are simply people who aren't going to respect my feelings, and that is okay.

There are simply people who will listen to my feelings - then share my story in a way that it is told in their perception, with their opinions... thus really not telling my story at all.

I have learned that we can stand up for ourselves by not saying a word to people.

Not a word.

We can stand up for ourselves by removing ourselves from the equation.

We can stand up for ourselves by living the best life that we can - not the best life other people feel we should have because in the end, they really don't know... but the best life we know we can be living.

We can stand up for ourselves by removing distractions (dropping over 700 people from social media was like losing 700 pounds, literally).

Working toward seeing ourselves as our Heavenly Parents see us is essential.

And, "working" is an action word.

Living up to that love that They have for us is also very important.

And fun!

And an honor!

And actually really, really freeing.

Let's just do our best.

OUR best.

Not someone else's idea of our best...

Our best.

Accountability

 In the first hours of my recovery, it was made known by my brother that I really needed to have some sponsors.

My therapist agreed.

It's a part of any 12-step program.

It's about accountability.

Sometimes we make different decisions if we know that we have to answer to someone tangibly.

After a couple of months with six sponsors, my therapist asked that I go down to one sponsor.

It's more manageable for someone in therapy.

I went down to one sponsor - T.

I continued to be accountable to her for the decisions that I was, and was not, making.

I continued to meet with my clergyman weekly. 

I was accountable to him.

I met with my therapist and my group once a week.

I was accountable to them.

This was a HUGE part of my early hours, days, weeks and months of my treatment and recovery.

There were several decisions that I made, thinking that they were totally innocent, that were seen differently by others: my dad, T, my therapist, my boys...

Their very loving, but no-nonsense approach to those decisions reminded me that I was not fully capable of making the BEST decisions yet.

I was making good decisions... better decisions for sure... but not yet the best decisions.

That accountability has kept me in line.

Recently, I have found myself very naturally morphing and moving and making decisions all by myself that show me that I'm growing.

This week, I deleted 700 people from my social media. 

I blocked quite a few of those.

Just because I knew I should.

I made a very small (yet huge for me) choice to not go to something. 

I told T about it after I made the decision.

Not before.

Not during.

I made it all by myself because it was the right decision.

You know what she said?

"I'm so dang proud of you!"

P.S. I'm pretty dang proud of my dang self.

Pretty dang proud of my dang self.

Almost Always...

Dear Friends & Enemies:

Almost always:

Feelings are important, too.

As long as we are positive they are coming from the correct source.

I.e. God and not Satan.

T bought us a super nifty magnet that reminds us what feelings come from God and what feelings do not.

It's very important to know the difference.

Sometimes when we are all encompassed in the chaos of the world, it can be hard to really discern.

But when we take a step back from the chaos, we will always know.

Sometimes we do things or say things or intervene in things because we are just positive we know what the right thing is.

In the process of doing so, we start an entire domino effect of lies, inaccuracies, hurt, a LOT of hurt, and sadness. We bring hurt to others by doing things that were unnecessary. We bring hurt to others by believing our version of a story that was not accurate to begin with.

Remember always - 

Facts should be the basis of our decisions.

If we are concerned about things that we are hearing, we should go to the source.

Since up until now, I have not known what feelings are or how to live with them, my decision making was based on who knows what!!!

Now, I am keenly aware of feelings - where they come from and what to do with them.

If I don't know, I ask.

I ask my T.

Or my Dad.

Or my kids.

Learning to base my decisions on concrete evidence and faithful feelings is a pretty big triumph!

We are Beloved Daughters & Sons

This is the new Young Women's theme for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

I am a member of this Church.

Since I was twelve, we would stand each Sunday in our classes and recite this theme.

This is a different theme than the one I recited.

I love this thing!

I feel that this theme much more appropriately includes ALL women - married or single, moms and those who do not have children...

Everyone.

The other part I absolutely love about this theme is that the real focus of it is that we are BELOVED daughters of Heavenly PARENTS - a Heavenly Father AND a Heavenly Mother.

We were born with a divine nature, i.e. we are already good enough. We are already divine.

I also love the word "strive."

Striving means that we mess up because that's human.

Striving means that we continue to try to do better and be better.

Striving means that we are actually expected to not be perfect.

And, finally "with faith..."

We are never expected to do this journey alone.

It's simply not possible.

And God knows that about us.

So, we walk in faith - striving to do the best that we know how to do, until we know better - then we do better.

Striving.

No Really, I'm Fine

T sent me this first picture yesterday with one word, "Powerful."

So true!

How many times have each of us been in a drowning effort?

An all encompassing effort to not drown? Yet we are drowning anyways.

Falling down the steepest, most rocky mountain ever...

Thinking that we have nothing left to offer, nothing left to give, no more strength to carry on...

Yet, when someone asks us how we are our response is always, "I'm fine." "Better than ever."

We need to stop doing that.

We need to teach our children to not do that.

We need to teach AND actively show that it is okay to reach out and say, "I am not okay."

"I am hurting."
"I am sad."
"I am tired."

"I am scared."
"I am furious."

I love this quote below.

We are never stuck.

I often describe dark times as feeling like we are looking through a super narrow, dark hose.

We simply cannot see the rest of the world around us because we are so blinded by anything but the hard things right in front of us.

Yet, we are NOT stuck.

There is always movement.

And, with each other, we can find joy in our days once again.

Finally...

this.

So much this.

Not only don't tell someone else's story...

Stop recruiting others to share in that story.

Stop making the story bigger and more disgusting than what it actually is.

Stop pretending like you know everything that is going on, then sharing it with others.

If we feel like that is appropriate and more "holy" than what someone else might be doing, we have a rude awakening coming our way!