Lessons from Lauraland

I have no metaphor for my life right now. That doesn't seem like it should be important but as I keep coming back to it, it must be. I feel like I'm not relating to the world around me very well. Things inside are moving at a different pace than outside and reconciling the two has become an exhausting enterprise. At this point I'm not sure what is helping and what is enabling. So I am sitting in my bath tub, under nurses orders to try relieving the pain, trying not to put weight on anything that will further inflame my nerve and struggling not to think about the last time it hurt this bad and I sat in this tub.

I recently spent an evening with one of my kids, let's call her Janice. Janice's parents are going through a dissolution (aka divorce). It had only been a few days, but already one parent was packing, readying to move out by that weekend. I spent the evening with her and one of my other kids. We got drinks, played with my puppy, watched Harry Potter movies, and ate pizza and wings when WBH brought them home. We talked a little about decisions she was having to make, but mostly, I let her be a kid who was needing a break from a heart-rending situation. I stayed up later than I wanted last night, thinking about Janice's situation and my response to it. I am a child of divorce, but I was young and remember so little about that time. I was still a child when my dad died and the situation it placed me in is what comes to mind as I think of Janice. Even at eleven years old, I could see that I needed structure, that I needed boundaries.. That I couldn't take care of my par

It's just after midnight and not only am I awake, I'm suddenly craving raisin pie. Why does my body do such strange things? I finished up reading The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks. Do you know this story? Mrs. Lacks died of cervical cancer during the 1950s. Before her death, a doctor took a cell sample from her cervix. The cell descendants of those cells are still alive today. It's pretty crazy to think about. The book details Lacks' life and continues with the lives of her husband and children, mainly focusing on her daughter. At the same time, it explains some of the science behind the "immortal life" of her cells. It was a surprisingly fast and enjoyable read. I'm looking forward to our book club's chat about it. Our next book is Lisa See's Snow Flower and the Secret Fan. I'm not sure what else we could have picked that would be so different. :)

I just finished watching Wristcutters: A Love Story . It is the story of a twenty-something year old man stuck in a quasi-afterlife after committing suicide. Most of the movie is shot in drab colors and no one smiles. Really; it's a thing that no one can smile there. Despite all evidence to the contrary, it was actually an uplifting movie. I felt like it handled a sensitive subject well and was an interested take on things, that is for sure! WBH is on his way home from his parents. He picked them up at the airport around midnight and just got them in and finished chatting. They were cruising Alaska for the last week or so and seemed to have a really great time. I am sure I will hear all the stories many times over and get to sit through lots of pictures. :) I am feeling pretty good right now. My pain isn't too bad and my depression is managable. That sounds awful as I type it, but that is a big step forward. Tomorrow I have an afternoon appointment with the NP at my gynecol

One of the fun things in my job is putting together services. I'm sure if I had to do this week in and week out, it would not be a novelty and maybe less of a thrill but as of now I am enjoying it. :) This weekend is our kick-off and while I have most of that done, I am trying to work in some of the liturgy that has been offered by our national church for 9/11 Remembrance services.This is a prayer written by Sharon Watkins, General Minister and President of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in the United States and Canada and one of my long standing man-crushes. :) Ever-present God, We give you thanks that you are ever near. Today as we remember those lost to us 10 years ago on that day we now call 9/11, we give thanks that you do not lose your own. Memories come to us, O God - where we were; what loved one we needed to place. Horror at the brazenness of it; sorrow at the loss of life. There is still so much we do not understand. And yet we know that each one lost to us i

Laying here on the couch, I feel like I could run a mile. As soon as I stand up, I nearly double over in pain. I can take more vicodin in an hour, but really that just makes it manageable, which is frustrating, and I think it is what is keeping me up. That, and the pain. I'm having trouble concentrating. I feel like a bouncing ball is going around my head, hitting on one thing and then another so fast that I can't keep up. My depression is beginning to creep up on me. I am going to call my doctor tomorrow about that. I know that it is partly because fall is coming and it has gotten cold and grey this week. But part of it is this pain. I can't do laundry or wash dishes. I can't play with Xander. I can't drive and I can't think, so working is not possible. I'm not even supposed to work until next week according to the ER doc anyway. I want to exercise. I want to do more things. I want to get off this couch. And yet, even trying to make the bed earlier was

So I wrote a story today. It has seriously been well over a year, probably two or three since I wrote anything, so it was a bit surprising. :) If you don't know, I dabble in Harry Potter Fanfiction under the handle OSUSprinks . I don't know why I stopped writing. I don't know why I started back in today. I went through a couple boxes, giving things a new place in our home, and found my old Quotes Diary. I love quotes and started keeping journals full of them a few years ago. Anyway, this one had a list of prompt words from a challenge that went around the fanfic world a while back. I got to looking at how many of them I had finished already and wondered if I could finish the whole list. That's where this story came from. I thought I would share it here because I share so much of my struggle with creation, I want to share the occasional triumph! :) Happy reading... Title: Hearts Rating: E for Everyone A/N: I haven't written anything in longer than I can remembe

I could say a lot of things about the way I feel right now, but I am getting tired of thinking and talking about this. Needless to say it is another sleepless, painful night and I am waiting and praying for the pain killers to kick back in. I have been thinking about Job a lot tonight. WBH and I taught the Job class at camp this summer. It is one of his favorite books of the Bible and one of my least favorite, though it contains my favorite verse: "though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him" or as the New Living Translation puts it, "God may kill me, but He's my only hope." Job 13:15 Here is my lesson moment, be careful what you ask for! Part of my problem with Job is that I could never understand his faith during it all. I mean when you read the story, you know what is going on from God's point of view. I think it is important to read the book from only Job's point of view too. He had no knowledge of God's deal with the Devil. He didn't kn

Working with the parents of youth is as much a part of my job as working with the youth themselves. I often find myself in the middle of what are essentially "water-cooler" conversations with women and men that, while I nod and smile, I can't exactly relate with... or at least I couldn't until I got married. I am up past the time I wanted to be, with a huge headache, because my husband waited until about 2 hours ago to tell me he absolutely needed work clothes washed tonight. I had to smile because I was just with a group of parents today who were discussing the beginning of the new school year and some voiced comments about a return to their children doing nearly the same thing. "Mom, I have to have a dozen cookies for tomorrow," or new clothing, or have signed their parents up for something, or, my favorite, "Mom, I am supposed to bring a volcano tomorrow." lol The point is, in someways I don't think we ever grow up. :) But that isn't m

I am a brand girl. That doesn't necessarily mean brand name, but when I find a brand I like of something, I stick with it and I am willing to try anything related. This is true in food, in products of all kinds, in curriculum for my Youth, and definitely in my internet life. I am a Google Girl. My homepage on my laptop, desktop, and work computer are all google. When I am on another computer, I will skip their search bars in favor of going to google to search there. Whenever I enter into some new addiction or area of interest on the internet, I tend to look to Google to make things easier. Google reader is my first stop each morning, even before I read my email. I glance through the top news, read my webcomics and glance through the updates from The Rachel Maddow Show and others. I also use Reader to follow my friends blogs, which I tend to read in marathons of blog reading as opposed to day by day.  Tonight, as I watch BBC World News on my local PBS seeing people flee the

When I was about 6 or 7, Granny told me I would get sick if I kept eating so many strawberries. To prove her wrong, I ate nearly an entire flat by myself. Pap was so proud of my orneriness (and so inclined to encourage it) that he made sure to have a flat of the berries each time I visited. Granny would always say I was going to turn into a strawberry one day(aka you are what you eat???). Well, here we are over 20 years later and Granny's prediction is finally proven right! And, while I am sweet, I don't mean the metamorphosis! I ate most of a quart of berries tonight before bed and now here I am, in the bathroom, on the floor, hoping I have seen an end to my stomach pain. For me, at least so far, this is the worst part of growing older. First it was dairy, especially glasses of milk, but now I am finding that lots of things (especially in excess) lead to issues. Maybe this is my body's way of reminding me to eat a balanced diet. Regardless, it is annoying! I would much rat

Okay I may be completely wrong about this, but I am offended. I was wandering around the book section at Walmart tonight as Adam looked through the DVDs and blue-ray (season 3 of Breaking Bad!). I picked up a book, Saved and Single by Sheila Copeland and thought about buying it. As I was looking at it and the other Christian fiction, I noticed that all the covers featured African Americans. As I took a step back, I realized every book on the two 4-foot shelving units on the back wall were fiction and non-fiction written by or at least featuring black men and women on the cover. These shelves were along the back wall, next to the tvs. The rest of the books were in an aisle the ended at the section, but I still found the segregation of the books disturbing and unnecessary. I'll admit to having the same thoughts about cards geared toward African Americans at Hallmark, but at least they are all from one company. I just had to put this out there and see what you guys thought. Please

I think my days and nights are getting flipped again, but more on that later. Do any of you remember the show Jem? I was just about to go to bed, when I hit the guide button as I picked up the remote and saw that Jem was on a channel over from where I was. JEM! I loved this show when I was little. Now I can't remember even the basic plot of the show, but I can still sing the theme song and remember wanting to wear my grandma's makeup like war paint (really, that was supposed to be attractive?). I was trying to find a good picture to share, something that did justice to my memories, when I ran across this link for a Jem Makeup Challenge . Thinking about it from an artist's POV as opposed to that of a child, the show really has an interesting color scheme and does interesting things with their backgrounds. I love the way they insert the songs! OooooOOOoooo Jem... :) I have no idea why I am staying up so late. I think I just enjoy sleeping in too much, which leads to me

Tomorrow is Father's Day. You know this year I was really hit with Mother's Day, although I have never been one to really celebrate the day with my mom. And now, after losing my dad nearly eighteen years ago, I am really spending a lot of time thinking about Father's Day. Growing up, we never really celebrated, even with Grandpa. I know the commercial idea of the day, with barbecues and such. I always found it odd that mom's day was all about her getting pampered, while dad's was about him cooking over a hot grill all day and maybe lawn work besides. Although I lost my father so early, it was always the lack of a relationship with my mom that bothered me. Now that they are both gone, I can see how wanting what still might (on some completely other plane of being) have been possible, made me hurt less for the loss of what was impossible. I think losing mom has somehow freed me up to really deal with the loss of my father and so I am working on it. It might take

My grandfather used to say this all the time, trailing off as he realized I was listening. As kids do, I would repeat it often - practicing to be an adult I suppose - filling in the ending with whatever was around. Today it would be accurate to say, pain in the neck, back and hips. Not fun. I went to see the second love of my life,  Dr. Jicha , on Wednesday and he rearranged me. It was amazing, but it had been much too long since I had seen him so I am due back Tuesday. In the mean time I am sore. So annoying. I knew I should have gone in sooner, but depression is a sucker and it even made that seem like too much. We are at about a full week of the new medication levels. This has been nothing like the first time I weaned off Effexor. I am hopeful this will lead to bigger and better things. I am however still sleeping 12 hours a night. Part of me thinks I need to go to sleep at 8 at night just so I can get up in the morning. I am wondering if this is going to change anytime soon.

I'm at war with the world And they try to pull me into the dark I struggle to find my faith As I'm slipping from your arms It's getting harder to stay awake  And my strength is fading fast You breathe into me at last I'm at war with the world 'Cause I ain't never gonna sell my soul I've already made up my mind No matter what, I can't be bought or sold When my faith is getting weak And I feel like giving in You breathe into me again ~~excerpts from Awake And Alive by Skillet~~ For the second night in a row, I find myself up late for no good reason. I am in bed watching Cagney and Lacey episodes and listening to my puppy snore. It's been a long, tiring day, though I didn't do much. We had counselor training this weekend in Bowling Green. It was nice to see the counseling crowd. It's funny; we spend one week a year together and yet they are some of my favorite people in the world, closer and more precious to me that most of my family. Peo

Regardless of what the calender says, it is suddenly summer and I decided it was time for a change in design here. I am hopeful that something will also change in my mental state. It has been a long few months of working on myself and I feel like I am only getting worse, not better. It is like I have so much to work on, the more we dig the more we find. I just don't know where and if it will end. And I wonder why my anxiety levels are so high. I just keep wondering if it is all worth it. I have been functioning this way for at least 18 years, probably closer to 25. I started this out because I wanted to be better, whole, but I just feel more and fragmented each day. I went to work Tuesday and had a full day, from letter writing to hospital visits and a board meeting. All that went well, but yesterday when I got up (at 9 when Adam left for the day) it was all I could do to sit still. I just wanted to curl up in a hole and go to sleep (what Judy calls the "sweet release"

Have you ever looked back at something you have created in the past and been unable to believe it was really you who did it? It has been longer than I care to say since I have added anything to my fanfiction  account (and longer still since I have written), but I still receive the occasional review and favorite story/author notification. I usually read the story that has been reviewed, which leads to rereading my work. On days like today, when I feel my creative well has gone dry and even the mud at the bottom has cracked, it is humbling and challenging to realize that I once really enjoyed and was inspired by writing. Even when using a universe created by another, being able to fill in the blanks with my own ideas was such a release. I wonder where that has gone. I worry about myself some days. Actually, I worry about myself a lot of days, which is why I am on medication, see a therapist biweekly, a medical doctor monthly, and am scheduling a consult with a psychiatrist. But what

I hate Easter Lilies. I don't think I can fully express here or any where how much I hate them. They look like sweet and innocent flowers with their bright, white flowers, slim, green stalks and leaves. But if you look close, within the flowers you will find the bright yellow of the stamen. The evil, evil stamen with its dreadful pollen. My sinuses are full. My stomach is upset. My head aches. At one point tonight I could not remember where I lived. Seriously. I hate Easter Lilies.

Monday, Monday, so good to me. Monday, Monday, it was all I hoped it would be... I feel like the only time I post, it is something negative so I thought I would try to be positive today. It's Monday and I am doing laundry. Xander and I have spent the day curled up on the couch with a blanket watching movies between loads. He lost a tooth today. His first at our house. We freaked out a bit, but he was fine. Typical first time parents, lol. :)

When there are too many voices, how do you listen? When so many cry out in pain, how do you care? When words are fragmented-                -sentences broken-                                           -thoughts irrational- how can you understand? Your voice was so clear and strong. Your words eternal. Your healing complete. Where is it now? Where are you now? Where am I? If I call out into the emptiness, will you fill it? If the darkness overwhelms me, will you overwhelm it? If I sink into my despair, will you raise me with your hope? And if, in the end, it all goes to shit again, will You still be there?

So I had an appointment with my psychologist yesterday. Among other things, we talked about my need to feel stable, to take some control. There is rolling with the punches, and that is all well and good, but there have to be times of stability in that as well. This is me, yet again. taking hold of myself, giving myself a good shake, and running off to the races again. This time I am standing in faith that this will be the last fresh start I will need like this. Even though there will be times of disaster and near miss, I believe I will survive this. I will overcome this. I will make it through. Even as my world shakes, heaven stands and I stand firm on that.

We adopted a new puppy on Sunday (the 27th). He is a Shar Pei mix and too freaking adorable for words. WBH felt he had a "noble chin" and so we named him Alexander the Great, or Xander for short. He's had a few accidents in the house, but is starting to get the hang of house-training. He is such a needy little guy that the only reward he needs is loving and he is happy. Seriously, he drops his treats as he dances around begging to be pet. It is very sweet and makes it hard to be strict with him when he does make a mistake. His former owners were not great with him and he moved from the pound to them to foster care to us. I think he is still not sure that this is his forever home, but every time he follows WBH around or snuggles closer to me in his sleep, I feel like he is starting to get it. :) It is awesome to watch him transform into a happier, healthier guy and we have only had him two days. He needs to put some weight on. Parvo took a lot out of him. We are feedin

It has been a long week. I started out with the best of intentions, but somehow ended up getting sidetracked anyway. It is frustrating. I am being tempted with an offer that is nearly too good to refuse. It would be so easy to say yes, but as much as I want it, I also know that God is saying it isn't my time. I have so much going on, so much left to do. Adam and I were talking earlier about a big decision we are in the process of making. He asked me if I thought we would ever be really ready. To be honest the answer for this decision and my offer are the same. No, there will probably never be a perfect time, but the God I serve is a God of will and purpose. He has a plan for me and all I can do is watch for his signs! And there are signs, and he does still speak. I will listen carefully, even in the darkness.

Two blogs in a weekend, what?? lol I am up waiting for the sheets and blanket in the dryer to finish so I can put the towels in it. I should probably be cleaning out the frig right now, but here I am. WBH came home and I was very happy to see him. We sat together and chatted during dinner at Youth and then stayed up for over an hour just talking after the last of the Whosoevers (my name for the post high school to 20-somethings group we started on Sunday nights after Youth) had left. It made me feel better that he missed me as well. It is good to be needed. I think God may be leading me to take a stand for the cause of equal rights under the law, but also under the Christian banner. I'm never sure where things will end up, but I am feeling stretched that way. Not that I don't believe in equality anyway, but I am wary of pushing peoples buttons, especially in my position. But you don't get anywhere with God by being subtle, so we'll see what He has in mind. I am ju

I miss my husband. He has only been gone for 10 hours and I miss him dearly. It sounds silly, but it is true. The strange part is, I was really looking forward to this weekend, to having the house nearly to myself. I used to housesit quite a bit. I love animals and it was an easy way to earn money, but the thing I loved most was the chance to be alone. I have never lived in my own home, whether it was an apartment or house. I've never had my own space and in the last several years have always lived in a place where someone else was the main renter or owner. When I had the chance to get away and be myself for a few days or weeks and make money besides, I always jumped on it. I loved to just sit in the homes and enjoy the peace and quiet. With a cat in my lap or a dog at my side, I would lounge on the couch or sit on the back deck and just take a moment to be alone. It was something I craved. From the moment we first entered this house, I knew it was the one I wanted. I could see

He will not allow you to be tested beyond your power to remain firm; he will give you the strength to endure it. 1 Corinthians 10:13b God, why? Why do I feel this way? Why so I feel like I am completely unable to be "normal"?? I know there is no such thing as normal, but still God. I need it. I need to feel settled. I need a sense of security. I need to know myself - to have a sense of what is real. I feel sometimes like there are two Lauras. One that is together - that sees a greater purpose and follows it. And then there is this one. The one that is miserable, the one that is crying out, from the very core of her being for your salvation and who just can't quite reach it. What do you want from me? What can I do? How can I make this better? I feel like I am sinking - drowning - trying desperately to catch my breath, but only losing it more, taking in more sorrow, more helplessness. God, what do you want from me? What can I do to close this gap I feel between us?

I miss my mom. There are a lot of reasons why. Silly ones, significant ones, but right now the big one is that as much as we couldn't relate, when I called her to talk about my depression, she got it. Totally and completely and without question. I didn't have to explain. I didn't have to second guess her response or worry she thought I was weak. She just understood that feeling of wretchedness; the fact that I couldn't explain not being able to get out of bed; the sense of guilt that comes with those feelings, which only compounds them and makes it all worse. She had lived it all and as much as she didn't understand so much of my world, she did understand this. I have spent the last hour looking at my phone, knowing without a doubt that whoever I dial will listen to me, love me, and try to help, but none of them will ever understand it the way my mom did. I miss my mom.