The State of Washington implemented temporary processing changes to get unemployment claims to the people that needed them. They were also victims of a massive fraud ring that caused them to stop payments while addressing the issues. Their response was swift and effective. They brought on 300 departmental employees from other services and called up the National Guard to help process. Benefits were being paid out again quickly and anyone that is waiting will be rectified by the 19th of June. Wisconsin should take note . . .
A dear and amazing young woman I adore posted about her struggle with depression. She has been actively sharing her struggle. She doesn’t want another message event to be overtaken by someone’s recent suicide are fall into addictions. Instead, she wants to share. To break down the box mental health has been hidden in for 40 decades.
Can we all do that? Give the power to ourselves and NOT the fears, anxiety, loss, grief, shame, loneliness, isolation and sadness.
I call it authentic living. Sure, I’ve got a lot of great things going, but some moments, days, weeks, and months are just hard.
We don’t and won’t always know the cause, reason, or coping skill to come back to happy, content, and joy … but we fight like hell to get there.
We WANT to be there.
What makes others keep moving, slows me down.
What reminds me to take one more step, may be the vice or memory that sinks you to barren lands.
We are human.
We are every third person you encounter.
We are just like you.
A great blog and passion for building mental health awareness.
Hello, All! Welcome back to “Working on Us” – A series that represents people with mental health illnesses/disorders.
Before I begin Week #21, I’d like to share with you all the participants that had responded to Week #20, Topic: Dissociative Identity Disorders aka (D.I.D.) I had requested bloggers to write a narrative based on this topic because I, myself had really no true knowledge of this particular disorder. I am grateful to those who have shared their stories with us.
Here are our participants for Week #20:
Melanie C., of “Sparks From a Combustible Mind”
Carol Anne, of “Therapy Bits”
Carol Anne, of Therapy Bit” (Part 2)
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I saw a picture and post about a tattoo a few months ago. Below, I’ve shared the picture. (Please note, I am not aware of the original poster, but do offer them the credit.) “I’m Fine” is a casual phrase we all use to move conversation along and often rely on those two words to reflect the attention elsewhere. A young woman, suffering from chronic depression, inked her body with these words. But there is a twist, to her it reads “I’m Fine”, to others it reads “Save me”. Think on that for a minute.
Continuing the journey of letting go reminded me of that post and tattoo I saved in my phone. It struck me simply because I believe we all suffer from a form of depression, but for some, it lingers and consumes us. When I embarked on the journey of placing worth in people, time, and self, I had no idea that I would also be addressing deep hidden truths that led me to respond with “I’m Fine” more often, than not.
You see, getting rid of all those things that distracted me pushed me to examine the intangibles in my life. I would love to report that, after ridding myself of electronics, negative media outlets, etc., I kept walking and never looked back. But that wouldn’t be the truth. The truth is that it continues to be a struggle even today. To clear up any misconception, I am not advising you enter your home and junk everything, that is what I needed to do to start appreciating life and opportunity.
After that initial unloading in my mid-twenties, I struggled with consumption and distraction well into my thirties. For a time, I would gain and accumulate, only to lose it due to stupidity, ignorance, life choices, or a mixture of all three plus seven more reasons. The idea of what my priorities were became a wavering mindset and often fell to the waste side when tempted by new technology and expensive toys that I had to have.
I taught my kids to use their money on experience, not things that don’t last. Or purchase something that will be with you for years and will serve a valuable purpose other than a distraction from living. If I only I led by example. Around the age of 35 I experienced a year of profound loss and destruction. While the details are private, what I will say is the life I knew changed in an instant. Twelve months of death, sadness, financial loss, family struggle, and court battles led to a period that will mark the beginning of living this life.
I lost everything. Everything that meant something and everything that simply just took up space. In the end, everything was just another word. Pictures, items that belonged to my late mother, electronics, files, records, furniture, collectibles, if you look around and see something, chances are it can be counted in my “everything”. Devastation really doesn’t begin to explain the emotions that processed through my heart and mind.
As I sat wondering what I would do, I was reminded of the struggle I began a decade earlier to put worth in people and time. So, I began to separate myself from the things I had no chance of recouping. Instead, I focused on the people in my life. Those that were around me, those that were far away, and those that I hadn’t even encountered yet. For me, letting go translated into gaining everything.
Sitting here in my kitchen I look around and see stuff. Most that know me are fully aware that I love Amazon and should probably be a key spokesperson for them. But things have a different place in my life now. People come first. Experience comes first. LIFE comes first. Letting go carries so much more than walking to the trash with things I haven’t touched in years. Letting go became a point in time. Things stopped replacing my feelings and words began to reflect my true self at any given moment.
This journey hasn’t been easy and along the way I’ve learned valuable truths about myself, my past, and how I can live a transparent life. What are my distractions? Am I giving the people in my life the time they deserve? Am I creating tasks to avoid a situation? Am I “fine”?
What is your distraction? Are you really “fine” or do you need some saving too?
One of my favorite classes back in undergrad was my creative writing course. This is a piece that ended up as part of my final portfolio at graduation. It’s a mix of reality and creativity, but it contains the essence of every summer I spent at camp.
My eyes are burning. Why is it so bright? What is that sound? I can’t move, everything feels different.
Growing up, I spent every summer at camp. Every day was a new adventure, and every night was a different prank. Camp was my getaway. Back home there were seven siblings, five older than me. Home was where I never wanted to be. My parents worked hard and provided for us, so life was good. We had everything we needed and wanted. But I’ll be the first to admit that sometimes “everything” wasn’t what I wished for. I longed to be seen.
I hear something, but I can’t place it. I know it’s early, I always wake up at six in the morning.
Back home, school starts at seven, so my body is internally set to rise on time. For some reason, today, six feels odd. There are only four more days left of camp. I can’t believe the summer went by so fast. I’ll miss Jessie the most, who’d of thought we would end up being best friends?
The first day of camp, six years ago, I walked into my cabin and there she was. Jessie was sitting on her bed crying. Not tiny tears, the kind of crying that makes your shoulders jump up and down and your throat makes that deep sucking noise when you try to breathe. I laughed at her – really loud. After all, I had a reputation to keep.
Jessie became my target. If I found her hovering in a corner, I’d call her out. When she was taking a shower I made sure to flush all five toilets. Somehow, she came through it. After two weeks she stopped crying, stood up straight, and flashed a smile as my friends and I tormented her. I remember thinking, who is this girl?
I don’t feel different. But then again, I haven’t moved. If I stay still no one will wake up. Ten extra minutes of sleep are precious these days.
Family isn’t a word I use too often. I write letters to my “real” friends from the summer and talk to them on the phone each week. School is okay, I typically only have one other sibling in the same building so I can achieve separation most of the time.
When my mom dropped me off at the bus for camp in May she said, “no trouble this year, Chenon.” I smirked and ran to the bus. Me, trouble? Well, how else am I supposed to get their attention? But I don’t get into trouble. I just have fun. Since when did fun become a crime?
I don’t hear anyone else yet, just that sound. It is familiar, but not to the cabin, and certainly not to this time of day in the cabin. I’ll just lay here a bit longer; someone is bound to get up soon.
I wonder what we’ll do for evening program tonight. Last night was amazing, I’ll never forget it. Wait . . . is that water?
Last year for my speech class I did a presentation on summer camp. It was the best day of the school year because I got to talk about my favorite time of year. I also learned that Shane, the hottest guy in my class, goes to camp too. I wonder what he does at camp. He said his parents send him to Texas for five weeks each summer.
I remember the first time I went to camp. I was six and scared. There were so many kids, some older than me. I unpacked, made my bed, and went for a walk. Before I knew it, I was surrounded by kids introducing themselves and giving me a tour. For once, people were flocking around me. I had no idea what was going to happen, but I was ready to go with it.
That summer went on to mark fantastic beginnings. I made hundreds of friends, realized I could live without my mommy, and learned that I could be somebody. I had no idea that I’d be the somebody I am right now. Everyone knows my name, they run to my table at meals, and I’m always first picked for relay races. Maybe school could be like that this year, but I won’t hold my breath.
I don’t sleep near the bathroom, and the lake is on the other side of camp. It can’t be water. I’ve been coming to this camp for 12 years and I’m sure . . . oh wait, it could be raining. No, I checked the weather. I’m supposed to take my cabin on an all-day hike today, so I made sure we would be prepared. The radio said no chance of rain, pure sunshine.
I guess it’s time to get moving, the girls will be up soon. Wait, I can’t move, what is going on? Why am I outside? Oh no! They got me! But how did they get me and my bed on a floating dock? And how do I get free?
I’ve learned a lot over the years. Coming to camp helped me learn who I was and who I am capable of becoming. That summer I met Jessie was the year I figured out that being mean doesn’t make you a winner and it won’t always make your popular. Most importantly, I learned that best friends come in all shapes and sizes. Jessie turned out to be the coolest person I’ve ever known.
Help! Somebody help!
I have to pee. Wait, is that a box of tissues? Well, well, well. Jessie strikes again. Every time she pranks me, she leaves a box of tissues. As a reminder of what I didn’t give her on the day we met. Here come the campers, it must be time for breakfast. I guess I’m on display.
Payback for years of pranks has finally come full circle. I love summer camp.
Our Monday Morning (actually Tuesday):
5:45 – Gotta pee, see the time and think “meh, I can get another wink in before 6am”.
6:00 – Alarm sounds … volume is down so I don’t hear it.
6:01 – 7:27am – Second alarm sounds at 6:40 and I don’t hear that either. At some point Ari crawls in my bed and starts jabbering away. I don’t EVER open my eyes and make contact during these times because eye contact means I’m awake and I don’t want to be awake.
7:28am – Ari: Maaaaaaaama, ma, ma, moom!!!!!!!
Me: WHAT!!!! (Eyes still closed)
Ari: Mr Gold Sun is UP!
Me: Pissed off and ready to slice this child, I look at my phone and it’s now 7:29am. 😳😳😳😳😳😳
7:29:53 – General household announcement that the bus is leaving in 10 minutes those not on it will suffer the wrath of Mama Known’s grueling cleaning schedule all day (uh, if you’ve been in my house you know this does not exist … EVER).
7:33 – Ari is standing on her bed, naked, clothes in hand. “I’m getting dressed mama”
Ashley is STILL in bed but swearing she is up and almost dressed.
7:37 – Ari now has pants on. Zoe has a collar and her legs are quivering from holding pee. Ash is nowhere to be seen. But send out a signal of life every 30-40 seconds.
7:40 – Ari and I dash downstairs, I make a pathetic PB sandwich and throw in a granola bar and call it a day for her lunch.
Ashley still has made no entrance.
7:45 – Ari has on her pants, socks, shoes, coat … underwear in one hand, shirt in the other. Ash has appeared in a nice dress and designer leggings. Good to know someone has the time for style today.
7:47 – (Ari should be in school now) Ari disrobes in the kitchen to put on the forgotten garments. Ash throws a breakfast sandwich in the micro, let’s Zoe out to pee and decides to change her clothes. Uhhh … NO! The second announcement is made that anyone in various states of undress will still be boarding the mama bus in 1 minute.
7:49 – Run to the truck that we left outside instead of in the heated garage. Winter has returned … nobody is dressed for the 37 degree shock.
7:49:17 – Ari doesn’t have her bag!!!! She runs to get it.
7:51 – Finally leaving for the school run.
7:53 – LATE so Ash has to walk Ari to her classroom.
8:03 – LATE so Ash has to be buzzed into to school while I call them and beg for mercy.
8:07 – PLEASE DEAR GOD DONT LET THIS MORNING BE IN VAIN … I CAN NOT MISS THE DIRECT TV AND INTERNET APPOINTMENT AT 8AM!!!! Mama Known needs her WiFi and HBO back.
Any other day and I would have declared it a no school day, handed Ari the remote, and gone back to sleep.
It’s been a long winter here in Wisconsin. Kids are restless, they have lost their minds, refuse to wear appropriate clothing, and are demanding lemonade like it’s a requirement for life during what should be warmer months. What is a parent to do!?! Seriously, this may actually be my signal for help. Mom down! Sound the alarms! Woop woop!
I grew up in Northern Indiana and Central Michigan. I don’t have any clear recollection of seasons being skipped, extended, or left to be a mere figment of our grainy imaginations. I spent my summers at camp and the rest of the year in school. I guess you could say my life as a child was very similar to the Wonder Years.
Now, fast forward to today and this ridiculous cold streak that may never end. Oh, but wait … there’s hope! We’ve had 3 days above 50 degrees and might just fall near 30 at night, but not below for the first time in what seems like a century. You see, we adults can rationalize this weather system business. Kids? Not at all. At least not my kids.
My four year old firmly believes that since Mr. Sun is now waking up before 6am, not taking naps, and staying up until after 7pm that she should definitely be on the same schedule. She also spends her days finding new ways to attempt breaking in to the OUTDOOR pool because it’s summer already. When she can’t get to the pool she just strips and swims in her Sammy the Snail sand table. Oh yes, picture that … you will laugh for a bit.
My 15 year old is on a totally different spectrum. Not only is it supposed to be nice enough to wear shorts and tank tops, she believes by being strong willed the global system has no choice but to align. Yup, that’s right, apparently I’m parenting a child that has the power to persuade Mother Nature. After she’s done dressing for the beach on a brisk 35 degree day, she puts on a Xero Exposure four layer winter coat to keep the breeze from drying out her skin. Uhhh … legs aren’t important? We are just freezing them off now? I don’t think CPS is ok with you having nubbins simply because Mother Nature needs to shape up or ship out. Yeah, they would definitely frown about that.
So you see, as parents, we fight a losing battle. I wake up smart, look smart, fix and spruce up the unsmart factors, and enter the battle field. As always, I realize at the moment I hit the front lines that I’m not prepared; I’ve become a causality of disservice; and how in the hell will I escape this nightmare without 1. Causing lasting injury and 2. Maintaining even a modicum of self respect? The answer? A bunch of emoji’s that don’t quite say what I’m feeling or thinking on an individual basis, but together … they speak volumes.
Music sets me apart from everything around me. Bad days, toxic people, and just nothing going my way can be instantly reversed by listening, singing, or playing music.
I was fortunate as a child to be surrounded by both a parent who LOVED music and a church that embraced it as a tool of service. Music taught me determination, what it is to emote, and mostly that somethings just aren’t expressed in words.
What moves you?