The Invisible Student

12-9-2020

This morning, I read a story about a young man (14 or 15 years old) who sadly committed suicide during this unfortunate pandemic lockdown. He was an outgoing football player that missed his friends and missed football so much, that he just couldn't take it anymore. It broke my heart. We have been hearing a lot about the effect of these lockdowns on kids. It wouldn't be a surprise to me if that they have long lasting effects to all of us, but especially kids. All the stories I have heard have been about outgoing, social kids that are depressed about not being around their friends anymore. We felt it some with our younger two kids. Luckily, my son was still able to play hockey and I think that has saved him from the hopelessness and helplessness these others have felt. And luckily, my kids had the option of in person learning before too long.

But we don't really hear about the other kids. The kids that are shy and introverts. The ones who don't like to be with people or talk out loud in class. The ones who don't play a sport or an instrument. The invisible ones. My oldest is one of these. And out of my three kids, this lockdown seems to be effecting him the most. This is what I mean. He hasn't been out of the house (except maybe to take a ride to pick up food with my husband) for months. He hardly even leaves his room really. For a long time, we did not hear him talking to his friends even while playing video games. In fact, it was just a couple weeks ago we heard him actually talking and playing video games with his friends and it's the only time I can remember in this whole pandemic time. Since we had the option, we allowed him to stay virtual for the first half of this school year. It may prove to be a big mistake because now he does not want to ever go back to school. His grades are terrible. He is failing 5 classes. I have threatened to put him back into in person classes and I am telling you, I have never seen him so panicked before. So much so, that he has willingly been taking his other devices down for us to hold while he is "at school" because they are too distracting. And while I'm glad he is finally making some progress on his schoolwork, I am dreading the day he actually will be forced to go back to school. After a whole year of virtual classes, I'm not sure he will be able to function in person. He is perfectly happy to be isolated and alone. And unless he's forced to, he will never want to be part of the real world. So while he seems content right now, the real challenge will be when we start to live our real lives again. Even if they are a "new normal", whatever that means. I don't have any answers. I just have the helpless feeling that he will be more screwed up than he already was before this pandemic. And I don't know what to do or what can even be done. It is for sure though - after this Covid-19 pandemic, our lives will never be the same again.

Election Thoughts and the State of the Union

I normally do not post about politics (I usually know better). But although private, I am very passionate about them. I just need to get this out because the thoughts are eating me alive.

I am not going to lie, I have been disappointed and a little surprised at the election results. The way I view it is that hate has won. Over half of people of this country hate one man so much that they are willing to give up all their liberties and freedoms. They are willing to give up everything just so long as the bad orange man is gone. Maybe this is overdramatic, maybe not. You may not like it or agree with it, but it is how I feel. I love my country and I love my freedom. I am a proud American. I have always had a great affinity for the founding fathers and the story of our country's beginnings. I thought that I was part of the silent majority. I thought most Americans still felt the way I feel about the country and they would prove it once and for all in this election. But to see that more than half the country does not feel this way has been hard for me to grasp or even understand. So, disappointed may not even be strong enough of a word. Devastated might be better. The silent majority is no longer a majority. Americans do not want to preserve the democracy that was put into place many years ago. They want and even welcome socialism. They are ok with having no law and order. They are also more than willing to turn their head to obvious and proven corruption, as well as dementia, in their own candidate. Full well knowing that sometime soon after election, he will be deemed unfit and will be replaced by the most far left socialist president ever. BLM can riot, loot and destroy. Babies can be killed. They want to take away our money, our religion, our healthcare and our school choice. But it's all ok as long as that man can't tweet anymore. Isn't that an even trade?

And to be clear, I do not hate them. I am confused and sad about it. I also feel bad for them. And I know Trump is no saint. He says and does things sometimes that make me shake my head. But the obvious hatred in their hearts is so strong, they cannot see the truth. They let the mainstream media tell them lies until they believe them all and can spit them out verbatim at any time. You can always tell a CNN viewer just by the way they speak. How have the American people become so hateful and misguided? Pondering it, I think there are many reasons. One of my theories is that while we were not paying attention, they infiltrated our education system and taught (and continue to teach) our children lies so they can grow up to be good little socialists. So they can grow up and do whatever they tell them to do. Not thinkers, but followers. This has been going on for much longer than we even knew to bring us to this point. The other thing is social media. Social media has destroyed most of our society. Kids today do not know how to socialize in the real world. Everything is online. The pandemic and virtual learning is not helping. YouTube is like a drug that they can't get enough of. It's also no secret that they control mainstream and social media. And no-one can deny the obvious censorship of any point of view that they don't agree with. They want to control what we see, what we read, what we believe. How else will they get us all to fall in line? How else will they get all the power they lust after? And sadly, they don't even need to hide it anymore. We just accept it. We have been lazy and complicit and I am ashamed of myself for not seeing it so clearly before this.

And to that point, I wanted to post some of this on Facebook. But I did not want the consequences of it. I know I will be yelled at and unfriended. I will be told I am a racist, a deplorable, a chump. So yes, I cower and yield to the mob. I am afraid. How sad that we cannot even have our own thoughts and feelings anymore. The way that social media has bullied us into silence is awful. And I have no answers for any of it. I'm still trying to figure out my own feelings. On one hand, I love Facebook for posting about my kids, my house and keeping up with friends and family. On the other hand, I hate that it makes me feel insecure, angry, and depressed on a daily basis. And yet, I just can't quit it. It's quite the conundrum. But I am going to make a concerted effort to limit my Facebook time and live my life instead. I have let it rule too much of my life and that has to change.

I don’t know what the future holds, but the good thing is that I do know who holds the future. So, even though I am struggling with all this, I will trust in the Lord. And in the end, Love will always win.

 

Starting is hard

1/10/19

I stare at this blank page and suddenly have nothing to say. That must be how I felt on 10/18/18 too since I started a blog entry and when I opened it, it was blank. The truth is though, that I have SO much to say that I feel stuck. I don't know where to start. It's a bit like me looking at the mess that has become my dining room and living room...and kitchen. It's overwhelming. I want to take a step. I want to start. But where? How?

I'm not exactly sure but all I know is I have to start somewhere so, here I go.

It seems that 2018 was a hard year for me. Nothing earth shattering happened. No big tragedy really. Just day to day living as a stay at home mom and wife. And things did happen. Like quitting my part time job in the summer and then in the fall, taking on the responsibility of a parent group at the school. It was my intention to get more involved in the school but honestly, I didn't realize just how hard it was going to be. Don't get me wrong, I love it at times. But at other times, it is grueling, time consuming, non-appreciated work. But overall, I love working with the teachers and staff and love when I'm there doing my part.

So then, why, when it seems like everything is just fine, do I not feel so fine? The truth is that my whole life I have struggled with anxiety and depression. Sometimes it was just a little and sometimes it was a lot. When I was a teenager, I found myself in a bad place. I haven't told many people, but there was one night (probably 1993 or 1994?) when I considered killing myself. Luckily, my friend found out and she told her parents who then told my parents and so they intervened. At some point during this, the doctor gave me Prozac. I took one pill and refused to take any more of them. I was insulted, actually. I had faith. I had a loving family and I was strong enough to get over it myself. And in some ways, I did.

There was another time over 10 years ago that my doctor prescribed me Wellbutrin. I honestly don't even remember the exact reasons or what was happening in my life at that time. I may have taken them a month or so but once again, I was sure that I did not need this medication and so stopped taking it on my own. I couldn't possibly be a Christian, have faith and yet rely on manmade medication to help me be happy. I had to rely on Christ, on my faith, on my family. And I was strong enough, wasn't I?

So fast forward to Fall 2018. Married, 3 kids in school. Stay at home. The dream, right? Oh, the time I will/must have to clean the house, cook the meals, organize my life. And yet, here I sit, over 6 months later, with the house looking the exact same way, meals aren't getting cooked and I barely have the energy to even stay awake all day. The last few years, I have noticed that my social anxiety is on the rise. Social engagements leave me feeling empty and exhausted. But this was something more. And at some point after school started back, I just found myself completely exhausted, numb and lost. Only listening to depressing music. Going back to bed after dropping the kids off or taking naps at random times. (And they always last longer than intended.) So, I thought, I must just need to throw myself even more into something - in this case, volunteering at the school. And boy, did I. But it's like just putting a band-aid on it for a little bit. And when I get back home, the band-aid comes off and I'm even more depleted and honestly, just plain sad. I feel like I give and give until there is nothing left. And it's not that I don't enjoy volunteering because honestly, I love it when I'm doing it. It's just the aftermath that is not so pretty. And I always have the feeling that I could have done more or why didn't I do it this way? Replaying the situations back in my head over and over and pretending I reacted a different way or said a different thing. It's exhausting. But eventually, it will fade. And then, all I'm left with is sadness and feeling lost. Nothing really excites me and I don't really want to do anything or go anywhere.

When you are a stay at home mom, sometimes time blurs. The days can be so similar you can't even remember which day it is. So, I don't know how long this depressive episode has gone on but I think it's the longest I have had in a long time. I'm guessing it started sometime in late summer. And after only a few months of these depressed feelings and knowing I had a Dr. appointment in early November, I finally decided that I had to talk to the Dr. about this. I had already been on anxiety medicine after my panic attack (see my last blog post) and I was less anxious about things. But I knew that this was something different altogether and it wasn't getting any better. So, this time I decided that I needed the anti-depressants. And I have been willingly taking the medicine for about 3 months now. I have been ashamed to tell people about it, but I feel that I need to. That it is all part of the process I need to go through. And I don't know if it is the ultimate answer. I don't know how long I will take it. I don't even know if it's working. All I know is that I am feeling the lowest I have ever felt when it seems like I should be the happiest I have ever been. And I feel like there is a wall around me, even when it comes to God. I want to reach out but I don't. But as I write this, I am reminded of a passage.

2 Corinthians 12:9-11 New International Version (NIV)

⁹ But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. ¹⁰ That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

 

Right now, I am weak. I definitely need God's grace to get me through. I don't know what all this is for. Or what will be on the other side. But if you are feeling this way, you are not alone. And it has definitely reminded me that you never know what a person is going through. You never know if they seem fine and then they go home and listen to sad songs and cry their eyes out. So, be patient and be kind. God knows we need more of that in today's world.

 

Panic, who me??

It's the third week of summer and it's been an interesting one. This particular week we have been busy with swimming lessons and VBS. It's been a little hectic at times and I haven't gotten all the stuff done I have wanted to each day. But that doesn't seem any different than any other week really. But this week was different. Because at some point, my body told me it was all too much.

On Wednesday night, June 14th, I had an experience I have never had before. It just so happens that on this night, my husband had to go into work for a deployment. At some point between 11pm-2am, my daughter decided she was going to come sleep in our bed. I don't know about you, but I cannot sleep when my kids are in my bed. Especially her, because she always pushes me off, even if my husband isn't there. But since he wasn't there, I just left her. At 2am, a sound awoke me. I have no idea what it was. And then, I thought I heard a helicopter. My heart started racing. It was beating hard. The A/C unit (which is right outside our window) went off. And I didn't hear the "helicopter" anymore. I messaged my husband. I checked Facebook. I got up. I went to Moriah's room. First off, someone had turned the fan on in her room. There are no blades on the fan because we are supposed to be taking it down so it was just the middle piece going in circles. So that is probably why Moriah woke up and came in our bed. I got a flashlight and looked at the A/C unit. Thinking maybe it was making a different sound or freezing up. It looked ok. I am messaging my husband as this is going on because I am having so much anxiety. And, in general, I tend to be paranoid, especially overnight, about someone being outside our house or someone breaking in or something bad happening in the neighborhood. I don't feel safe a lot. Not that anything has ever happened (except a bike getting stolen once). But I just know that one of these nights, something bad is going to happen. I have woken up many nights, thinking I hear something and walking around anxious and scared about what might be outside. Well, this night it escalated until my chest was hurting. Of course, this whole time I am checking Facebook, sure that something was going on and there was a helicopter close by. (There wasn't). And messaging my husband. Like he didn't have enough going on at work. After my chest starting hurting, I looked up the symptoms of having a heart attack. I was having them!! Which made me freak out even more because I didn't know what to do. I could call 911 but I am here alone with the kids. I had visions of getting taken away in an ambulance while my kids looked on. It was around this time, I decided to put Moriah back in her bed just in case I did call 911. As the night went on, I tried calming down, breathing, going back to sleep because surely this is not a heart attack. Wouldn't I have died by now? But I'm afraid to go to sleep because what if I die and I don't wake up? I kept getting up and down and in the bathroom and out of the bathroom (because I definitely nervous pee). I'm messaging my husband. Maybe I should call someone? It's 5am. He finally comes home. We discuss what we could or should do. He wants to take me down to the fire station to get checked out by the paramedics. I'm like, can you do that? And what will we do with the kids? He says, we can call someone to sit over here while I take you or you can drive yourself. I don't want to go by myself! So I say, I guess I just need to call so they can come here. I freak out. I cry. I feel ridiculous. I don't want to pay for an ambulance. Especially if they say, you are fine. What a waste that would be. And I definitely don't want to waste anyone else's time if I am fine. I have to say, my husband was great. And he was so tired since he had been up all night. But he prayed with me. And he was ok with whatever I wanted to do. I told him I would call so we wouldn't have to call and bother anyone else. He got fully dressed and put the lights on outside. I dialed 9-1-1 and just put the phone down. I could not press send. And I never did. I laid down. He laid down. At this point, we were both just so exhausted. We both fell asleep.

In the morning, my chest still hurts, like someone is sitting on me or like I ate food that never went down all the way. I decide I should just go see my doctor and see what the heck might be going on instead of waiting until I feel like it's an emergency. I take the younger two to swim lessons and of course, I left my phone at home. After swim lessons, they go to VBS and I get home and I finally call the doctor. They put me on hold. They talk to the nurse. They say I should come in right away. Can you come in 30-40 min? Ok. I'm scared again. Josiah was supposed to go to swim lessons, but he says it's ok if he misses. I ask him to come to the Dr with me. He says no. I say to him, almost in tears, please Josiah, I don't want to go alone and I'm scared. He says, ok. We go. We wait. I figure out a way for someone to pick up my kids from VBS. I get into the doctor's office. They talk to me, take my blood pressure and heart rate and finally, an EKG. The doctor comes in and after more discussion, his conclusion is that I had a panic attack. I was so afraid of hearing that. I don't panic. I am not a panicker! He prescribes me a medicine to take that night and wants me to get a good nights sleep and wants to see me the next day (today) to make sure nothing else is going on and to make sure I am feeling ok. I take my Xanax. And go to sleep. It was the best sleep I have gotten in a LONG time. I don't usually sleep through the night. I'm always waking up at some point for some reason or just restless in general. Or having weird dreams. I feel better the next morning. But the pressure is still there. I go see the doctor again. He was so great about the whole thing and he made me feel better. He said it's not all just in your head. There are actual physical symptoms in a panic attack. He was very kind about the whole thing and not at all judgmental, which I appreciated. He never made me feel crazy or stupid. He warns me that it could keep happening or maybe not. He asked me numerous time, how are you feeling now? I feel like he really cares and that's important. I tell him I need a prescription that says I have to get a massage. He reminds me that it's actually fathers day weekend. We laugh. On my way out, he tells me to tell my husband to give me a massage. I guess I'll have to take that and see if it works. We laugh again. It's always good to end an appointment laughing.

I don't know if this was an isolated incident or if there will be more of them. I actually don't know much about panic attacks in general. I never thought I would have one. I have never been so close to calling 911 in my whole life than I was at that moment. It was scary. But it has made me really think about how I am spending my time. And honestly, I spent way too much time on Facebook, where I read all kinds of stories of horrible things happening. Shootings, killings, deaths, water heaters exploding. And then, on the flip side, I read all the great things my "friends" are doing and saying and I just feel like a loser most of the time compared to them. I will never be as good a person, a mother, a wife, an employee, etc., etc. as they are or have as good a life as they have. So, I have come to the conclusion that I HAVE to limit my time on Facebook. As well as other changes I'm sure. I'm not exactly sure what it will look like yet but I really need to re-evaluate my life and how I'm living it. I need to work on myself and getting closer to God and my family. It will be a process and I don't know the end result, but I just know I need to start making changes.

The Sound of Silence

Today I am here and I am heartbroken. Over a few things specifically. A friendship that ended and I'm wondering why. My heart is so broken over it. I feel a hole and I don't know how to fill it. A church that may just not be for us. But what to do about it? I am confused, depressed, feeling alone, wondering what's next. I know I probably shouldn't post this, but this is my reality. I wrote this a couple months ago and I still feel the same. Some days I am so depressed, I want to just get in bed and never get up. Luckily, when you have kids you have to keep going. And so, that's what I do. What I am asking for is prayers. Prayers for joy, peace and guidance. I need Him so badly right now.

Written 1-30-17
Do you know the feeling of when the silence is so loud, it almost hurts? When you are staring at your phone, willing it to ring or a notification to sound or just to get some sort of idea that you someone somewhere is thinking of you?
"I am alone" "No one cares" "How do I keep winding up in the same place?"

I have tried many times with many people. Some people never reciprocate. Some people do only to stop at some point. I don't know why. It's never explained to me. You should have to tell someone why you don't want to be their friend anymore before you are allowed to disappear. Unfortunately, that's not how life works. So, I just get tossed aside time and time again. And I have no idea why. Is it because I'm weird? Is it because I said something offensive? Is it my dry sense of humor? Am I too depressed all the time and didn't hide it well enough? Or am I too open with my depression and people are like, oh no, can't deal with that burden. I don't know if I will ever be able to let someone know the true me without the eventual ruin of the friendship. I never thought myself as high maintenance. I always try to go with the flow, be laid back. Whatever you want is fine. But then it's that I'm too easy going and I never can make a decision. Why can't you take charge? Um, because that's not me. And when they leave me, I let them go. I am unwanted. I am heartbroken. I am sad. I am lonely. I think, this is how I'm meant to live. No one will stick around. No one finds you interesting enough to get to know. And if and when they do, they will ultimately leave. They won't like you. And they will replace you with someone better. Someone who will suit their needs much better. And you will be alone. This has been your struggle from the beginning and it will never change.

Yesterday, I cried during church. Besides the greeter lady telling me how glad she was I was there, there was no one. I can walk into an ABF, maybe exchange a hi or two, hear a great message but then, there's nothing. No one wants to know me. No one asks me any questions. They just don't want me to take their normal seat. And in the service, people will awkwardly shake my hand during the greeting time but only because they are forced to. I honestly feel like we unknowingly have an invisibility cloak on when we are at church. When's the last time I heard, "Hey, I'd love to get to know you better. Would you like to have lunch or come over for dinner sometime?" "Hey, we are getting together to do ______, want to join us?" or even "Hey, who are you and what are you doing here??" To be fair, there have been broad type of invitations (the whole ABF is doing such and such) but there are times when we cannot go to events or ABFs because of Elijah's soccer schedule or some other conflict. But when we are available, it's so hard to force yourself places, when you aren't sure anyone even wants you there. Is it such a bad thing to want to be known by someone? Maybe we are just that weird family that is always scolding our kids because they can't behave in service. Or, maybe we are seen as too quiet, too reserved so we can't be any fun. Well then, we should be the ones reaching out then, right? Maybe it's because we're not asking questions or showing up at events. Let me just say, we have tried in the past. We have invited multiple people to lunch out, to dinner or lunch at our house. Of at least 4 of these, not one of these invitations have been reciprocated. We reached out and they all said, thanks, but no thanks. It's hard to get over that kind of rejection. So, find another church, you say. Oh, we have tried. Multiple times. With always the same result. So that only leaves me with a it's not them, it's us answer. Which is not helpful. Because we are who we are and maybe there is just no place for us. So, we go where at least we enjoy the music and the preaching and hope that our kids will at least be accepted and be excited to learn about Christ. Well, Josiah never wants to go to church (of course, most of that is probably him). Sunday, he tried to get out of going to class. But I was having a rough morning and he quietly made the decision to go to class and not fight me in the hallway. To which I was relieved of at first, but then just felt bad. Cue, the tears. He has not made any great friends in 10 years. Now being in middle school, the leaders try but I almost wonder if it's too late. It hurts my heart. Elijah is too shy. He also hasn't really made any great friendships after 8 years either. And he doesn't seem particularly interested in what they are learning (at least that he shows us) and that pains me and makes me feel like a failure. Moriah is the only one who loves it, makes friends and always wants to go. But she is outgoing and thankfully, will be this way no matter where she goes.1 out of 3 kids thriving. It makes me sad. It makes me think, what in the world are we doing here? And unfortunately, I don't know. All I can do is pray for clarity, pray for direction, pray for a change of heart. Because yes, I know, it's not always in the right place.

"You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown where feet may fail
And there I find You in the mystery
In oceans deep
My faith will stand

 

And I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine

 

Your grace abounds in deepest waters
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You've never failed and You won't start now

 

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior"

 

Hillsong United - Oceans

Preparing for a test all wrong

Sorry for the late post on this, but just realized I never posted this about Josiah.
Written 9/16/15
So, those of you who know our family know the struggles we have had with our eldest, Josiah. Josiah is 10 years old. He is sweet, silly, quirky and unique. We have always known there was something different about him. When he was 3-4, we had one psychologist tell us he had Aspergers (high functioning autism). When we had him assessed, we were told that he was not on the spectrum but that he was close to it and we should have him assessed again in the future. I think from this point on, I thought of him as Aspergers. I figured he was just too young to get the diagnosis but would eventually. Due to insurance issues and the fact that he was doing relatively well in school, we decided not to have him tested again unless it became a bigger issue, especially at school. At the end of 4th grade, we noticed some problems with school work and home work and knew that it was time to get him re-assessed, especially with middle school lurking right around the corner. It took me about 2 months to figure out how the insurance worked and where we could get him tested since the place who did his original testing is out of network. (Gotta love the healthcare system!) I did find a wonderful lady who has done a great job with us since we contacted her.

So, for about 6 years now I have lived under the assumption that Josiah has Aspergers. I have gone through periods of great research so that I could better understand him and help him move forward in life. I thought I will be ahead of the game when the actual diagnosis came. My husband has always told me that he did not think he had it. I just dismissed this because he does not spend as much time with him as I do. My biggest fear was that after this assessment, she would tell us we were in the same place as before - he was not on the spectrum and was just a weird kid and there was nothing we could do about it.

Results day was a few days ago. As the psychologist started talking and explaining the tests and findings, I could not really tell where it was going. I could see it was going away from autism spectrum disorder and then the dreaded word... ADHD. No, no way. Josiah does not have that. I started to panic a little. But I have to say, our psychologist explained things so well and things started making so much sense. Josiah has trouble with the hyperactivity and impulse control, not so much the attention deficit. So what about all the social awkwardness and problems. Josiah landed in the gray area between an autism spectrum disorder and what is considered normal. The formal diagnosis is Social (Pragmatic) Communication Disorder. (Who doesn't have this at some point, right?? LOL) Basically, he knows what he should be doing but for some reason cannot always do it.

She told us a story about when Josiah spent the day with her testing. He spent a good 6-7 hours with her on the day of testing. She was struggling with his diagnosis throughout the day. She said her clarity actually came after the testing was done. They were waiting for me to pick him up. It was then he realized that he didn't know anything about her. He started asking her questions - do you have kids? where do you live? does it take you long to get to work?, etc. She said it was then that she realized he could not be on the spectrum because someone on the spectrum would not do this on his own. Guys, the thought of this gets me so choked up. I know it does not seem like a big deal. But I did not know he had the capacity for this. I was shocked. It still is taking me some time to digest this fact.

To know thyself

Lately, I have been so overwhelmed. I am struggling with many things - getting things done at home, not getting angry with my kids, not wanting to sleep ALL the time. I just can't seem to get myself motivated. I suffer from depression. It comes in waves. Sometimes I am fine, sometimes I am not. Sometimes, the feelings of sadness and hopelessness try to swallow me whole and it takes all my energy to push them down, not feel them, pretend they don't exist. I am SO tired. If anyone could see or hear inside my head and heart, they would probably be scared and run for their lives. I have struggled with this on and off my whole life. I have gone through periods of happiness and where I felt good. But the last few months have been probably the worst I have ever felt. Not sure if I am just more aware of it or if certain situations have brought my insecurities to the surface more. Maybe a combination of things. There are many issues I am working through right now. Not having a steady, loving home church is probably much to blame as well. This is something that is on the top of my priority list for this year. To find a place where my family and I belong - somewhere where I do not feel we are invisible and where people actually care (or even notice) if we come or not. But that is another subject altogether for another time and place.

Another thing about me that maybe not many know is that social situations absolutely exhaust me. I sometimes like to think that I have a touch of Asperger's syndrome. Because then I have an "excuse". And while that I may have a tendency toward tunnel vision or feeling awkward in front of people, I know that is not really the problem. The last year I have extended myself and put myself out there on different occasions. In the process, I have started to learn so much about myself. Some things I knew, some things I am just realizing for the first time. But what it ultimately comes down to is knowing yourself. Who am I really? At age 37, I feel like I only half know. Something I recently realized is that I have a tendency to be who people think I should be instead of who I really am. And trying to be someone other than who you truly are is exhausting. Especially when you don't even really know who you are fully.

I try so hard to fit in. I try to care about making my own laundry detergent or shampoo. I try to care that my kids sometimes eat too much macaroni and cheese. I can't say this or that or joke about that, no one would get it, no one would get ME. I have to do this or that because that is what is expected of me (even if I have remotely no interest in actually doing it). And then there is the extra pressure I put on myself. Sometimes I say to myself "try to talk more" and sometimes I say "try not to talk at all because the last time you said something really stupid". Oh, and when I do say something really stupid, I will replay the conversation over and over in my head, beat myself up about why I didn't say this or that instead. I am truly a great conversationalist AFTER the conversation is over and I can script it to my liking! And why, oh why do I have to laugh when I'm nervous?? I mean seriously, who does that? Maybe part of the problem is that I don't like who I am, so I try to be someone who I would like. I try to make myself someone I and then consequently, others would ultimately like. It hasn't worked. It won't work. I am not being true to myself. And in the process, I am driving myself crazy because of it. And so sometimes, it is easier to just avoid social interaction altogether. There is only so much self awareness and self reflection I can take at a time. And sometimes I just need a break. But this doesn't mean I will ever stop trying. I want to be the best version of me that I can be. I am reminded of a popular Christian poster I may have had growing up "Be patient. God isn't finished with me yet."

“Resolve to be thyself; and know that he who finds himself, loses his misery.” – Matthew Arnold

“It is not only the most difficult thing to know oneself, but the most inconvenient one, too.” – H.W. Shaw