Tag Archives: joy

The Miracle of a Day

25 Sunday Oct 2020

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All-day, it continues. Little blessings like a cool breeze coming through the open window. The light as it shines and brightens the whole room. I enjoy the fresh banana and nonfat yogurt with a cup of tea. The guided journals are encouraging gratitude, gratitude, gratitude. I receive a kiss from my husband, a soft word, some days a love note placed in the red mailbox we bought in the dollar section at Target.

All-day, it continues. A phone call to my parents still alive and doing well even with chronic conditions like Parkinson’s and leukemia. A snack of hummus and pita bread or Ritz crackers out of the box.

All-day, it continues an e-mail from a student saying, “Thank you.” A paycheck from a class I taught arrives in the mail. A text from one of my brothers or a friend. Plans to share a brunch date over Zoom to celebrate a friend’s birthday.

All-day, it continues. The smell of a tree with white flowers blooming just outside my window. A swarm of bees pollinating the plants. A dog barking as its owner plays fetch with it on the grass patch across the street.

All-day, it continues. My favorite pair of sweatpants and a worn-out t-shirt with soft cotton plush socks. A poem that I think is profound or beautiful or both. A photograph on Instagram of trees turning orange, red, yellow. The air pollution calculator is on green indicating the quality is good today.

All-day, it continues. Something sweet like oatmeal and chocolate chip cookies or a piece of dark chocolate with mint. My husband’s and my guilty pleasure of Red Vines while watching our favorite comedy series.

All-day, it continues. These little blessings. One pound less on the scale, making my BMI in the normal category. The sight of my toenails painted pink. My husband puts my hair up in rag curls. I finish a workout on the stationary bike. I stretch my body for thirty minutes easing some of the aches and pains.

All-day, it continues. I smell bread baking or the scent of a vanilla candle. I feel fabrics so soft on my skin or the touch of my husband. I see the bay out of the dining room window. I hear music from Pandora or YouTube. I taste fresh food like watermelon, apples, or beets.

All-day, it continues these little blessings that spring up everywhere along with each breath making me want to reach up and grab ahold of the sky.

The Gift of Receiving

30 Saturday Dec 2017

Posted by in bipolar, caregivers, hope, mental illness, relationships, schizophrenia, Uncategorized

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“These chocolates are so good. So good. Here, try one.” Every time I taste something good, whether it is salmon or a chocolate layered cake, I want my husband to try it. I want him to experience the same pleasure that I am. He will frequently say, “No thanks,” and I will say, “Please.” At that point, he usually gives in and tries what I am offering to him.

The scenario I just described is frequent in our house but is only one example of how I try to encourage my husband to experience things that I think he will enjoy. I often feel as if I take up too much space in our home, relationship and lives with my mental illness and my newly diagnosed health problems that require a strict diet.

Those of us who receive a lot of care from another person need to feel as if we can give something back. My husband falls into the category of a giver. Because he is a giver, his needs, wants, and desires are frequently at the back of the line. It gives me great pleasure to see my husband happy and to see him getting the things he wants.

The problem is, my husband will often turn down gifts and gestures of kindness. He will say, “No thank you.” I have told him over the years that if he is going to do so much for so many people he needs to allow others to give back to him. Most of us find a certain joy in giving to others and if my husband always gives but never receives people (me included) can feel left out of that joyous cycle.

I think caregivers in particular need to learn to accept from others, and particularly the people they are caring for. As I wrote earlier, I often feel like the focus or center of our lives revolves around me. Anything I can do to give back to my husband, to make him the focus once in a while pleases me, and it also helps alleviate the guilt of all the things we have to say no to because I am having symptoms.

I feel like there are so many disappointing times when my husband is looking forward to something and because of me, we will have to cancel at the last minute. If I can buy him things that he loves or would enjoy, have him try things, get him to spend time with his best friend, etc. then I feel like the scale is not so lopsided in my direction.

The old saying goes, “It is better to give than receive.” I think there is some truth to that statement, and for those of us who receive much, it is important that we can give and give generously in return.

 

 

Finding Love Despite a Mental Illness

06 Monday Nov 2017

Posted by in bipolar, caregivers, hope, mental illness, relationships, schizophrenia, stigma, Uncategorized

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In the past few days, I have seen several posts and articles written by authors hoping to find love/partner after a mental health diagnosis. All of the authors have said that they want to find someone who can love them as they are. I don’t think that is unusual I think most of us long to find someone who will accept us – good and bad – flaws and strengths.

As someone with one of the most stigmatized of the mental illnesses who is happily married and has been for almost twenty years, I can say finding that someone is possible. But is it likely? I think it is if the person looking can think about what they have to offer instead of what the other person has to give.

If we concentrate on building our world and our lives, the more appealing we will be to a potential partner and the less they will have to bring to the relationship. Building our world can be everything from reading more books to working at hobbies (or picking one up), attending classes, working a full or part-time job, getting out more, traveling, exploring the city or town you live in, etc.

There are times when our illness can be a pit where care by the person we love is needed 24/7. I assume this is the reality that most people fear when they think about becoming a couple. Will he/she be willing to stick with me through the really hard stuff? Will he/she leave me when things are mostly dark, and the signs of light might not be obvious?

It is difficult to say how any one person will behave when they are in the role of caregiver, but anyone can become disabled at any time, and that is a risk we take when finding and committing to a partner too – to care for them in sickness and in health. If you can imagine yourself caring for someone who had a stroke, had a heart attack, or develops Parkinson’s or cancer, then why is it so hard for you to imagine that someone would stand by and care for you when depression, or psychosis overtake you?

What have I learned as I’ve gotten older and been married for almost two decades? Life is fragile, health is fragile, circumstances are fragile, but love is strong, and there is no reason why everyone can’t find a love to survive all of the fragile parts and give them strength to get out of bed every day, keep going, and put joy in their hearts against all odds.

A Dream to be Fearless

24 Friday Feb 2017

Posted by in mental illness, schizophrenia, Uncategorized, writing

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Suffering. I suffer. You suffer. We all suffer. An illness. A loss. Hunger. No shelter. Bombs. Loneliness.

I frequently say, “Why can’t suffering be doled out equally?” Like if you have a severe mental illness you don’t also get a chronic physical illness, or if you lose your child, you don’t also lose a spouse. The world doesn’t work that way, though. And you can’t equate the loss of a child, or war, or starvation to schizophrenia. Suffering is not equal.

My diagnosis of diverticulitis almost two weeks ago, made me momentarily think that I shouldn’t have to deal with physical illnesses and a severe mental illness, too. For a short period, I felt bitter and sorry for myself.

I don’t like feeling bitter, or sorry for myself. Bitterness and self-pity do not suit me or feel right for any length of time, but beyond these feelings is an even more destructive force: fear.

Feelings don’t just fly away. There are times when we need to work to get our feelings on track (I certainly don’t mean you can think your way out of a mental illness, only that you can think your way out of some feelings both negative and positive).

So, I need to find a way back. A way to put my troubles in perspective, lighten my mind, heart, and soul. What I want to be is fearless.

When I was in the emergency room at the hospital, anxiety overcame me. My pulse rate was well above 100. I have felt that same anxiousness since that time. I am hyper concerned about the diverticulitis acting up again and sending me back to the hospital. During this time, I have had back problems for two months. I can lay down and stand up, but I can’t sit. I even stand at restaurants to eat (we haven’t gone out much lately). I am standing while typing this.

But back to fearless. I don’t want to be anxious or afraid anymore. I want to develop a skin of steel. Going to the doctor and hospital terrifies me. I want to overcome that. I want to be strong and brave and courageous. I want to laugh in the doctor’s office and make them laugh, too. I want to whistle no matter what the diagnosis or outcome. I don’t want to be afraid. I don’t want to be concerned.

Concern, anxiety, fear and worry have taken over my life these last two months. I have stopped doing the things that bring me joy because I feel an ache here and pain there and the worry begins. I am concerned by every bite of food I put in my mouth, thinking it may cause another infection in my intestines. I fear sitting down because it can cause my back to hurt for hours or even days.

I know it will take small steps to get me back to the laughter I so frequently enjoy. I know it will take time removed from these illnesses and pains to help my mind heal from their impact. I know all of this, and yet, today, I am going to get out of the house, experience a little living, get on with things.

Today, I step out, slowly, surely, and purposefully. I am re-entering the world. I miss my joy, and I want it back. I may never be completely fearless like I dream and desire, but I’m moving toward that goal – one toe out front – the rest of me is not far behind.

My Latest on She Knows

25 Wednesday May 2016

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Okay, I know you have heard whispers that I write articles on things other than schizophrenia, and it is true. In fact, I am doing it more and more (although my new column on Drunken Boat will have to do with mental illness but in a totally exciting and unique way).

So, here is a light article on aging.  I hope you will pop over and read it.

http://www.sheknows.com/living/articles/1122427/getting-older-is-great

Thoughts For The Day

06 Sunday Mar 2016

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I am thinking about a couple of things today.

Physical health:

I am sick and when I am sick it is hard to focus on anything but the feeling of being sick. On days like this, it is easy to feel grateful for all the days that may not go the way you wanted them to but at least you were or are physically well.

 

Relationships:

It is easy to take people who you see every day for granted. It is easy to assume they will always be there and always feel the same way about you as they do today. Last night for the first time in my almost eighteen years of marriage it occurred to me that it is possible for my husband to fall out of love with me. Many times I have thought about the possibility of something happening to him, but this was the first time I thought that maybe there would be a time when he would discover that he wanted to be alone or with someone else.  The thought of it broke my heart, but it did something else, too. It made me realize to pay close attention to the things my husband says, to listen when he talks, to care about the things he cares about, and to try and create long-term dreams together that we can both see ourselves in the future together.

My thoughts are not new or original, but something to think about on a Sunday afternoon that might give you an idea that makes you feel more gratitude, create more dreams, or be more loving and attentive to the people in your life.  These things are all good to consider this day or any other.

Vacations, Family and Just Being An Average Woman

03 Thursday Mar 2016

Posted by in hope, mental illness, schizophrenia, Uncategorized, writing

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Last Friday I flew to Seattle with my husband, met my nephew and his wife and we all drove to Eastern Washington. We stayed in a house called the Nat Washington House in Ephrata Washington.

On Saturday morning, we prepared food and decorations at the house for my dad’s surprise 80th birthday party.

I saw a friend I have known for 45 years. I saw my dad, stepmom, stepbrothers, nieces, nephews, two of my brothers, my former sister-in-law, and many other people.

The great thing about being with people who have known you most of your life (or in the case of nieces and nephews they have known me all of their lives) is that they treat you like anyone else. I was expected to step up and help with the party preparations. I was expected to make decisions, go shopping, put together platters of food, and clean up. Because of all the excitement I had to take some extra medication (I had to do this on the flight to Seattle and the day of the party, but overall, I did well). I wasn’t treated as someone who was fragile, different, or incapable.

I am a part of a family. I am a respected member of that family. I am an important person in a web of people who are important to me.

When I am with family, it is the only time I can truly be myself and feel as if I am valued 100%. I’m not the woman with schizophrenia. I am a daughter, an aunt, a sister, wife, etc. Everyone at the party with the exception of the younger kids knew me long before I had the diagnosis of schizophrenia.

I wanted to fast from social media and technology for the 40 days before Easter (Lent). I wasn’t successful in doing that, but I was successful in fasting from technology for the whole time I was on vacation and celebrating my dad’s life with family and friends.

I have to tell you that having conversations face to face with people is more rewarding than a message on Facebook. Laughing at people’s jokes or things that happen is so much more meaningful than clicking the like button on Facebook, or sending a smiley face.

As someone who normally isolates socially, I sure enjoyed talking, laughing and participating in all the festivities. It was a joy to give up technology for a short time, and it was priceless to be a member of a family that doesn’t consider my illness as the thing that defines me.

Giving up technology taught me to be more present with the people around me and to listen to them and enjoy them more. But better than that was being all the things that make me feel like a whole person, a regular person, a person who is so much more than schizophrenia. Sure, I have to take a little more medication to deal with stress, but no one notices, and the benefits to me are tremendous. I am occasionally the cool aunt, the best friend, the only daughter, the only sister, and the one who is married to that nice guy (who everyone loves).

The most important part of the weekend is that you could hear our laughter ring out in every room of that historic house, and my laughter may have been the loudest of all.

 

 

Recipe For Long Lasting Love

16 Tuesday Feb 2016

Posted by in hope, Uncategorized, writing

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I wish everyone with a mental illness could find a partner who loves and cherishes them for who they are. Most of the joy I experience in life is from having a relationship with my husband. He provides me stability, endless laughter, and the necessary support to rebuild my life each time it falls apart.

Next month, my husband and I will celebrate our eighteenth wedding anniversary.

Each relationship has its unique recipe and ingredients for making things work. I would say our recipe looks like this:

1 cup forgiveness

1 cup communication

1 cup laughter, silliness, and fun

1 cup hope for the future

1 cup commitment

1 cup support and encouragement for one another

1 cup believing in each other against all odds

1 cup compassion

1 cup caregiving

Mix all ingredients together in a bowl of love. Bake it for as many years as you possibly can – it’s never fully cooked, finished or ready – it is always a masterpiece in progress. You can eat from it year after year, and it will fill you up as it grows larger not smaller with each bite you take.

 

My Wish For You

24 Thursday Dec 2015

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Yesterday, my cousin, who is traveling around the United States for six months, stopped by my house for a visit. I haven’t seen her for over seven years. We were able to have some meaningful time together. Her visit brightened my heart and holidays. We talked, laughed, went to the park, saw a museum, had a delicious lunch, and we talked about our grandparents and some of our memories of them.

My mom and dad (my parents are divorced but have been remarried for so many years that I have two sets of parents) arrived from Arizona. They immediately filled my husband’s and my stockings. We filled their stockings too. There are some presents under the tree.

Earlier in the week, one of you sent me a Christmas card and present. I was so excited and touched by the gesture. It is one of the prettiest packages under the tree.

I think I will have an eggnog latte today.

It is Christmas Eve.

I hope you are surrounded by family, friends, or in a beautiful, peaceful place that you love to be. I know not all of you celebrate this holiday, but even if you don’t: Christmas is about hope, and although that hope centers around Jesus, we all need hope about something to keep us alive. So today at some point think about what it is you hope for – good health, a sound mind, stable moods, a friend, a job, etc. Hope. Hope. Hope.

Send your hope into the world and I will be hoping upon your hopes that all you hope for is waiting for you on Christmas morning.

I believe in Christmas miracles – I’m filling your stocking with hope – it is bulging because it is so full.