Mama absolutely did not say there’d be days like this.

‘Your normal methods of coping may not be enough right now. You had found effective ways of coping with life as normal, but this is not normal.”

When I wrote my last blog entitled “Change is a comin'” I had no idea of all the changes we would soon be facing. So many changes. Most of them rather abruptly with an unknown duration. I’m now seeing all my clients through telehealth, meaning I no longer go into my office and sit with my clients face to face. We are doing video calls and some of them phone calls. It’s not the same as sitting in the room with my clients, but it’s been okay.

I miss hugging my children and grandchildren. We have been using Zoom to have virtual family time for all of us. The other night I read a book to the littles using Zoom and they got to talk to their cousins. We are planning a talent night soon and they can all share a talent with the rest of us. It should be very entertaining. My 87 year old mom lives with my husband and I. She has enjoyed video calls with our relatives.

I recently asked friends to post positive effects of staying at home.  Here’s some of the comments:

Cooking more.

Dinner and game night at the table every night.
I’ve taken time to get things done instead of “lounging and recouping “ when I’m not at work. I’m more driven

Those quiet moments when the dishwasher is humming because it’s full from another meal we enjoyed together, kids are reading or doing school work, and I’m drinking coffee and moving about the house kissing my husband on the cheek in passing.

I sat on my patio and enjoyed the beautiful day. I felt thankful.

It has forced me to slow down! And I have enjoyed EVERY second of it! No complaints here!!

And I’m so happy for them. I’ve found all these things to be true as well. We’ve done DIY projects that we probably wouldn’t have had time for. We are slowing down, being intentional about connecting with family, spending time outside. But, not every one has it so good.
I’ve talked to a number of my clients in the last couple of weeks about adjusting their coping skills. Your normal methods of coping may not be enough right now. You had found effective ways of coping with life as normal, but this is not normal. This is the opposite of normal. You need to adapt the skills you already have, or maybe you need some new ideas. Here’s some things I’m suggesting to clients:
1. Get outside every day. Even if it’s just for 10 minutes. Preferably several times a day. Breathe the fresh air deeply. Look around you and try to notice 5 things you haven’t noticed before.
2. Connect with someone either by phone or video, but preferably video. As humans we need to see facial expressions. Remember Tom Hanks painting the face on the volleyball in Cast Away?
3. Eat healthy.
4. Have some structure in your day. Get up and go to bed around the same time each day. Get up and get ready for the day. Don’t lounge around in pajamas all day. Wash your face, brush your teeth, brush your hair and put on deodorant at the very least.
5. Limit the time you spend watching the news and social media. Don’t drown yourself in COVID-19 information. Check it maybe twice a day and that’s it.
6. Reach out when you are feeling sad or lonely or overwhelmed. We all are feeling it. Reach out to someone and talk through that.
7. Remind yourself each day that this is a temporary situation. This will not last for the rest of your life. This will come to an end and life will go back to normal at some point.
8. Practice being present and grateful. Without the distraction of future thinking (ie. what time to pick the kids up or drop them off, appointments, ballet lessons, sports practices, church activities, etc.) that we usually have, allow yourself to be fully in the present. Intentionally use all five senses (taste, touch, smell, sight, hearing) to experience your world. Each morning and evening find 3 things to be grateful for.
9. Do something that makes you laugh every day. Watch a comedian, a funny video, family videos, play a silly game, have your kids tell you jokes, look up tongue twisters and try some of them, etc.
10. Reach out to someone else to make sure they are alright. Text, phone, video, email, snail mail…so many options. Checking on others gives us a sense of purpose and value.
I know that some of you are in terrible situations. For some, staying at home isn’t a welcome change. You may be home with an alcoholic, an addict,  or an abuser.  You may have lost your job or the provider in the home has, causing you to worry about if you will lose your home, your car, or be able to buy necessities. You may be home with a new baby and no support. You may be a caregiver of someone and have no support. You may be grieving the death of a loved one all alone.  You may be dealing with a difficult diagnosis alone. Please reach out. Please ask for help. Ask for support. Most mental health professionals are doing telehealth like I am. We want so badly to support anyone that we can. Ask friends. Ask people in your church. Ask anyone, please just ask.
Here’s a list of US numbers that may be helpful to someone:
Suicide Prevention Lifeline — 1-800-273-TALK
Trevor HelpLine / Suicide Prevention for LGBTQ+ Teens — 1-866-488-7386
Crisis Text Line — Text HOME to 741741
IMAlive — online crisis chat
National Runaway Safeline — 1-800-RUNAWAY (chat available on website)
Teenline — 310-855-4673 or text TEEN to 839863 (teens helping teens)

Child Abuse Hotline — 800-4-A-CHILD (800 422 4453)
National Domestic Violence Hotline — 800-799-7233
Missing & Exploited Children Hotline — 1-800-843-5678

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration (SAMHSA) — 1-800-662-435

Be kind, be grateful, be courageous,

Jules

So I’m shifting…

It’s been a little over 8 months since my dad died. I’m still figuring my grief out.  This week has been a struggle. It happens. This morning I’m coming out of a four day funk that was really hard. But, today seems better. If you’ve lost someone you love, you know. I wrote my feelings. Maybe the words will resonate with some of you.

grief

At first, my grief made me feel as though I was adrift in a dark ocean.  Tossed about, at the mercy of the waves. One day, I realized I had washed upon the shore. Laying on my belly, exhausted, but on the ground in the light. Still later, I found myself standing, but the sand under my feet was shifting and not predictable. Recently, I felt as though I found my footing. Sand that is mostly packed, that holds me steady as I go through the day. But, it’s still sand. Some days, with unpredictability, the sand under my feet shifts. I’m unsteady, tentatively taking steps to see if I sink. Some days I can’t. It’s too much work. So I stay still. And then, just like that, I stand again, unfounded confidence urging me to move forward. I accept the cycle.  Right now I can’t imagine that solid ground is an option. Then again, at one point I didn’t imagine that sand was an option to being tossed in the waves. So I’ll keep moving forward. Allowing myself kindness and compassion for the unsteady days. Enjoying the sun on my skin, and the feeling of the water washing over my toes. Knowing he loved to see me smile.

Be kind, be grateful, be courageous,

Jules

So….I’m valuable.

If they have no perceived power over our value, then we no longer have the need to beg, coerce, manipulate, or perform for them.

I pulled a crisp new twenty dollar bill from my wallet. She watched me quietly. “How much is this worth?” I asked. “Twenty dollars.” she replied. I crumpled it up in my hand. “How much is this worth?” I asked again. “Still twenty dollars.” she said with a quizzical look. I threw it on the floor and enthusiastically stomped on it. “How much now?”. “Still twenty.” she20.jpg smiled this time knowing where I was going. I took the twenty and carefully straightened it out. “It’s a little bit weathered now, from all the mistreatment, but it’s value is still the same. This is you.” I held out the twenty with the wrinkles and creases. She teared up. “You are so valuable. You hold so much worth. And yes, some people in your life haven’t recognized that. Some people have crumpled you up and stomped on you. But it didn’t change your worth. It didn’t change your value. It says more about them then it says about you.” We sat in silence while she contemplated my illustration. She cried quietly. I waited silently, giving her space to experience her emotions. “No one has ever told me that.” she said. “I always thought that if someone rejected me it meant there is something wrong with me.” She sat quietly again. Then she whispered, “But it doesn’t have to does it?” I smiled as I could see her rolling new thoughts around, trying them on like a new outfit, turning this way and that as she formed an opinion on them.

When we let the opinions of others form our opinion of our self, we are in danger of our value being determined by the acceptance or rejection they give us. There is internal validation and external validation. Internal validation come from inside us. It’s our own knowledge of who we are, good and bad, and our acceptance of that. External validation comes from outside of us. It’s the opinions of others based on our looks, our opinions, our performance, our actions, etc. We are a culture of judges. We feel we have the right to judge others constantly. I do it. I comment on people on TV, on their actions, their outfits, their opinions. Isn’t that the point of reality TV? To make us all judges? I don’t do it as often in real life. I’m pretty okay with letting others be who they are, but it’s not always easy. As a friend once told me, “I’m aware of my faults and I’m working on them.”

We all want positive external validation. It’s human nature. An acknowledgement of our effort, a compliment on our looks, a respect for our opinion, appreciation of our work. It feels really good. But what if we don’t receive it? Or even worse, what if we are rejected? I’ve been rejected. It hurts. It can make us question ourselves. It can make us lose our confidence. It can make us feel worthless and fragile. But it doesn’t have to does it?

If you can do the work to honestly know who you are, not the you meeting others expectations, not the you on social media, not the you that’s your front, but the authentic you. with all your imperfections and quirks and awesome qualities. If you do the workmirror.gif and face who you are, and become friends with that you, and accept yourself completely, no one can make you feel worthless again. Your value is then based on your internal validation. If external validation comes, YAY! soak it in, delight in the feeling. But, if no validation comes, or rejection comes, you will know that you are still the same person, and that rejection takes nothing away from who you are. It still hurts, but it doesn’t destroy.  You’ll be a bit more weathered from all the mistreatment, but your value will remain the same.

Once we are able to accept who we are, we can let others be who they are. We no longer need others to agree with us, because it’s no threat to our worth if they don’t. It frees us up to experience others in a new way, not needing anything from them. If they have no perceived power over our value, then we no longer have the need to beg, coerce, manipulate, or perform for them. We can enjoy others with no fear.  And that is a beautiful way to live your life.

Be kind, be grateful, be courageous,

Jules

So I’m healing…

It’s been awhile since I’ve posted. I’ve been healing and celebrating and saying goodbye and hello and goodbye again. It’s been a year of hurricanes, not only in my country, but in my life. A category 5 that wiped me out and I’m rebuilding.

My father died this year. Whew…that’s still so hard to say. My dad was the best. I learned about God from my dad. Not just words, but what a father is, and what a father does, and how a father makes you feel. I learned about family from my dad. I learned a lot of other things from him as well, how to ride a horse, how to change a tire, how to …………. fill in the blank. My love of flying, of cars, of city lights at night, of chocolate ice cream…all from him. My ridiculous sense of confidence in new situations, my generous spirit, my compassion, my patient nature…all from him. He was (still hard to use past tense) the best father.

So this summer, my hurricane season, went something like this: My oldest son graduated from basic and we made a few trips to Georgia so he could see his wife and kids. He was starting Airborne training and would be there a few months more. Dad was ill often. I made the 2 hour trip to my parents’ house several times, sometimes staying a day, sometimes staying a few days depending on how he was and what Mom needed.  At one 19441758_10155482791693739_1128828333922711115_opoint he was in the hospital and I had been there a few days without my husband, my oldest daughter called and said she was heading to the hospital to have g’baby number 8. I told Dad and he sent me off with a kiss. I sped home, picked up my husband and got to the hospital in time to kiss those sweet, new baby cheeks.

Dad was not doing well and I headed back up there. That was pretty much the story for the month of June. My dad was moved to the nursing home.  July 4, he gave up. The storm hit with full force. I thought I had prepared, I thought I had boarded the windows and hunkered down, but I was wrong.  The deepest, greatest sadness I’ve ever felt came, and settled on me like a heavy, wet wool blanket. My protection was my husband, my children, my siblings, my mom, the house of family that my dad had worked so hard to build stood strong. We had a public visitation, and over 300 people came to pay their respects to my family. I had friends drive several hours to show up for me, and it meant the world.  We planned a private family funeral for a few weeks later.

 

The Sunday of the funeral came, and our giant family celebrated the life of my father. Every single person spoke of my dad’s great love of his family. That Friday, g’babyHaven number 9 was born. Her daddy was able to get leave from the Army and come home for 10 days to hold his precious new daughter.  As excited as I was, I was torn to my core with grief that my dad would never see this great granddaughter that he had been so excited to meet. I left the hospital crying uncontrollably and couldn’t go back that day. The 10 days flew by and we had to tell our son goodbye again. He was broken leaving his wife and 3 children, again.

In September, my husband and I went to Florida for a week. We stayed in the same hotel on the beach that my parents had stayed at for the last 20 years. We invited my mom to come with us, to rest and heal, but she understandably wasn’t ready to leave home.  It was wonderful to sit on the same beach watching sunsets that I knew my parents had sat on so many times. The peace in the eye of the hurricane.

We then said goodbye to our youngest son as he headed to across the world for deployment until June 2018. His wife and 2 year old moved in with us as she would be having their second daughter in a month or so. At the same time, we moved our older son’s wife and three kids across the country to finally live together again after 10 long months of separation. Again, a hurricane of sadness and happiness swirling and blowing together.

22769642_1317678038343022_4388228918228156563_oOctober 17 g’baby number 10 was born. Her daddy made it home the next night and got to spend 10 days kissing his girls. But, alas the 10 days were up and we again told him goodbye until June of next year. My heart broke watching my son leave his family.

My hurricane season brought devastation. My life has been altered in ways it will never recover from. My hurricane season brought life. Three new babies that have helped heal my heart and brought so much joy to us all. My hurricane season brought goodbyes that I didn’t want to say. Goodbye to my sons, goodbye to my dad. My hurricane season brought sadness. Watching helplessly as my mom grieves her husband of 67 years. Watching my brothers and my sister grieve their dad. Watching my children and grandchildren learn to accept that their time with their grandfather is over. My heart breaks for them all.

Here’s the thing: My dad lives on in every act of kindness that I see my kids do for each other. He lives on in every phone call I make to my mom and my siblings. He lives in every story my siblings tell and every memory I share with my grandkids. My dad lives on in photographs that show him being there for all of us. He lives in the faces of my brothers and phrases we all use. My hurricane season was chaos, but the aftermath is full of love, and the house my dad built stands strong.

Be kind, be grateful, be courageous,

Jules