Stuff I need to say

to loath or not to loath thyself?

I think I am surprised to find myself writing again. I really thought I would stop- I could not fathom sitting down to try. I thought over the last few months that- well it began before that really but came to a head over the winter – I had lost my way. I felt I was lost and was not sure of my purpose. I just felt stagnant and blocked. What little creative blood that was a trickle much of the time this last a couple years had become a drip drip drip. I know it is there as I feel it light up sometimes. Today I felt it when I received a notice of a local photo contest. And yesterday when some uncanny thing happened involving the IRS – maybe uncanny is the wrong word when using it with IRS – I heard the thought in my head- “you should write about this”. But as with so many of those same thoughts, with that spark that comes with those thoughts the light quickly flickers out.

This past couple years has been hard for me and my family. I guess I would venture to say since my cancer in 2013 things have been tough. There is nothing like a serious illness to change the dynamic of the family. I think I have been harboring a lot of guilt over my getting ill. I had no idea that my cancer treatments would lead to years of chronic pain and my just being unable to be the mom my teen kids probably needed. Sometimes I was someone I did not recognize. And this all during their neediest years. Forget toddlerhood – teens need us more than they ever let on.

I became an official empty nester in March 2020. Just as Covid began my youngest child went off to the Navy. That left me unmoored. I never thought I would be effected by my empty nest. I have my mother living with us, and we have lots to do around the farm. I have my job- even though it pays little. I have various hobbies (of course on hold in early covid). Anyway I was effected by his leaving. I know it was that he was going to the military and to bootcamp that made it worse. In bootcamp they can’t talk with you much if at all. You feel very disconnected and that is hard in a time when we can text our kids at any moment and hopefully hear back from them. As sure as I was that I would not have a life crisis I found myself crying – missing him, my two other kids, and something else… Could it be my identity?

I was shocked about this. And what followed has been months of my getting used to my kids being gone, the military owning one, the other two in various stages of finding themselves, and me doing some deep personal looking at myself. And up came so much guilt of every failing I had as a parent. And they keep stacking up! My daughter got pissed at me last winter. So pissed she didn’t want to talk to me. For like a couple months. This hurt. And also during that time a long friendship ended. That hurt too. There is nothing like the sting of rejection – especially by your kids-to get you to look into the mirror and try and see how things happened and if you can do better.

Learning how to parent young adults is an art. I will think that I am helping my kid- no I am overstepping. I think I say something constructive – no I hurt their feelings. And since they too are learning how to adult they themselves lack the expertise on how to communicate constructively. It is easier to just not answer the texts. Or to curtly say they need space. SPACE? If anyone should need space it should be ME – the mom! I get to say I need space before you do!

I went from anger to sheer sadness to anger and back during the time my daughter didn’t want to talk with me. I sent emails apologizing. And then I realized at some point this issue of my feeling so awful about her need for space was not about her need for space. It was somewhere inside me. The lost me. The me that feared rejection – this fear goes back to my childhood- dysfunctional family -blah blah- we all have some baggage! Just when you think you have dealt with your issues…and believe me I had spent years trying to deal with issues in many a therapists office- on a soft couch or chair -only to have these feelings of rejection pop-up when my young adult daughter got mad at me. Son of a gun.

Once I got down to the issue(s) I knew I needed to jump back into therapy. First working on how to be the parent an adult kid needs and also to look at these rejection feelings…this lost feeling…finding my purpose…maybe even what color my next vehicle should be…ok thats a joke. But here I am trying to figure out what this next chapter of my life will look at. Deal with the sadness over losing some years to illness and pain and to try to not live in fear… but most of all self loathing over the many many mistakes I have made in my life. For not being the “greatest mom ever”.

My therapist told me she has had no mother come in touting how great a mom they were. Most moms beat themselves up over their parenting at some point. And when your kids are young adults and out making their own choices and trying to become independent persons and inevitably making mistakes- (inhale Anne)-you want to help them to not fall down! And when they do it is so easy to blame ourselves for the fall. And when they tell you they want to figure it out on their own it hurts bc we know so much more than they do, right? So much more that we want to instill all our wisdom on them – and yet they would rather hear from an earthworm than from us…it hurts. Then you ask yourself what did I do wrong that they would rather take the advice from the earthworm over me?

And if you keep hanging on to all that stuff it will just drown you. Well it was drowning me anyway. I needed to get off the drama triangle- its a thing -I can come back to this in another post. I needed to step away. Let them live their lives. Let them fall and not feel blame.

I had a kid who two years ago had to go to a rehab for severe drinking issues. He went to Florida to a rehab and a half way house, then another rehab out-patient, and another half way, and during covid another rehab out-patient for depression. I felt terrible for him and for months I didn’t know how to navigate this world of addiction. I still don’t really. As we went along I did realize that I was enabling my son. Not to drink–no no. The drinking was a shock to me (I always thought I would know if my kids were drinking too much being a child of an alcoholic – turns out that is false). Turns out I was helping him too much in rehab and in his making his way in his half way. So I backed way off. We had to. He needed to figure out things for himself. But crap that was so hard for me. But it was a good thing we did it. I am happy to say he found an apartment this winter with a sober friend. Got it on their own. He is working in a steady job – and prayer after prayer -hopefully staying sober.

Just as these accomplishments are not my accomplishments neither was his drinking my fault. Why would I take credit for either?….but I would easily blame myself for my fails as a mom for his drinking. Logically I know it isn’t my fault but I beat myself up when I found out he had a problem.

The things I accomplish in therapy this time may be better for my kids as I learn to parent adult kids. But for me it will be granting myself forgiveness for real and perceived failures. I hope this will help me open up again creatively. But most importantly – maybe I won’t feel so lost and I can begin to navigate where I fit in. What I want for the next chapter. Anne 3.0 haha!

Navy Son- Part 2- How we got here…

My son has been at the Navy training center for about a week now.  He is in quarantine as is the protocol at the moment for new recruits.  We did get word yesterday that a recruit in training tested positive for Covid-19 and had been placed in isolation.  I can’t imagine getting that call as a parent – but it is a reality we have to consider.  The Navy is making changes daily to it’s normal procedures and it can be frustrating but it is understandable that they are dealing with something never conceived of (a world crisis of this magnitude) and they are trying to adjust as best as they can.

As a parent of a Seaman Recruit  (SR) it is not easy when there is so much in flux and all I can do is remind myself that my kid is in good and capable hands. They will care for him if gets ill, they are caring for him now.  Over time I have come to an acceptance of my son’s decision to join the Navy- it didn’t happen overnight. But I have gotten there.

When my son first said he wanted to join the Navy he was a senior in high school that was in 2018.  I was not a fan. Kevin and I both encouraged him to apply to college and maybe do ROTC or apply to the Navy after he graduated.  I think at the time I thought it was an idea that came with not much thought or it was a fantasy of an immature kid. Like when he was little and wanted to be superman. Though he did wear out two pair of superman sneakers over the years! But still I felt that he wasn’t mature enough to make a decision as big as joining  the military.  He also mentioned  that he wanted to be a police officer- which again we suggested he wait on. I think in our parent point of view we thought getting a college degree would be best. 

He did a year in a university  – and never pursued ROTC- but then at the end of his freshman year decided to change to a major (criminal justice) they didn’t have at the university he was attending so he withdrew from there and decided to live at home with us and he began local community college last fall. 

I could tell he was not thrilled going to those classes. And I could tell by the amount of gaming he did that he wasn’t studying. His heart was not into it. I was beginning to realize it was a waste of money if he didn’t have a desire to be in college. That’s when during yet another discussion about drive and motivation and his future he brought up the Navy again. And again I admit I wasn’t a fan. He wondered out loud why I was so against  him joining the military since my stepfather was a career Navy pilot and made it to captain. My son had heard some stories about my stepfathers career – teaching young Navy pilots to fly on and off the carriers at night, fought in two wars.  To me that didn’t extrapolate into my kid enlisting. I wasn’t a Navy kid or considered myself part of a Navy family.  My mom married into one when I was a young adult. So I didn’t feel a pull to have my kids join. Do not get me wrong. I was thankful for my stepfathers service andI am so thankful for all military service men and women. I just wasn’t sure I wanted MY kid to be part of the military. I was scared. And I still am. 

I told him that if he wanted to join the Navy he needed to do all the work himself – because normally he needed my help to figure most things out for him, jobs, banking , school admin issues etc.   I decided that if he was really serious about the Navy he had to do it on his own. I was not going to facilitate it. If he went and hated it later  he only had himself to blame. And I figured since I left it up to him he would not do anything about it.

I was wrong. Within a day he had a meeting with the local recruiter in nearby Frederick, MD. And that morphed into more meetings and once he was told he was eligible he went to officially sign-up. I have to admit I was not a fan still. My anxiety about it ramped up. But since he seemed so excited- and he rarely gets excited by much – I wanted to be excited for him. We looked over the jobs he could choose from based on his testing scores. 

He chose cryptology- but then when he went to our local MEPS (the place where you they do recruit processing) the job wasn’t available. Kind of a bait and switch? But I realized later he could have waited for that job to come open but he wanted to leave sooner than later…so he chose a job in a Sub. Missile tech to be exact. Holy cow this freaked me out because  just the week before he said he didn’t want subs and I was happy with that. Then he picked subs!  He told my husband he did exactly the opposite of what he had said he wasn’t going to do. But he had had options and he could have waited. So I guess this is something he wanted to do. Or he thought he did. Or he was being a teen.  I really lost my cool when I found out he chose subs- first I was mad …then I sobbed- I am sure this was me letting out all the anxiety I had been having over his decision to go to the Navy- I will say I was going through some seasonal effective depression when this all occurred so I think my reaction was more dramatic because of this. But a Sub- 800 ft underwater….why?

I could not speak to him for like two days. I hated myself for this. I read up on subs and saw he could be under the ocean for ten weeks…with no contact. I felt claustrophobic for him. A projection onto him of my issues of enclosed spaces. But I also began reading about subs. I do tend to research things – probably more than my child did.  I am sure I do this as a way to come to terms with things. The more knowledge the better I am able to process things.

In my research I read about some of the scary tests they have to perform in sub school (where he will go after he passes bootcamp).  My kid doesn’t swim well ( I am told they will teach him to be a better swimmer in bootcamp) and they have a test where four of them have to go through a sub hatch in a simulation of a sub escape. They wear air filled plastic bags (I am sure it is more technical than this) over their heads and float to the surface. They have a room flood while they fix equipment, they have fire simulation. Oh Lord!  But the more I read the more I saw that the testing is obviously important  and they want them to pass so they help them to get there. And if there are issue like severe claustrophobia then they will help them move to another job not in a sub.  But most important I read about the camaraderie that builds among the soldiers in subs and on ships, and the sense of pride these seamen have for their Navy, and their country, and themselves. He needed this. 

My son needed a direction, he needed to find something that could build his confidence, and he needs friends.  If he feels that this is the vehicle to him finding himself who cares if it comes before , after or instead of college -and there are many benefits to being in the military as far as schooling goes.  It has taken time for me to wrap my mind around all this. The positives and the negatives, the risks and rewards.  It was never a case of me letting him join the military. If this is what he truly wanted then I wasn’t going to stand in his way. But I know he wanted and needed my approval. He wanted to know I was proud of him.  I have settled into the fact that my kid wants this and he needs it.  I am very proud of him and I have told him that many times.  But it doesn’t mean I am not scared too.  It is very hard not to be during this pandemic. 

My son once told me he rather live a shorter life helping others than a longer life not doing so. That is sobering coming from such a young person.  It may have been a thought of an immature young man not realizing his mortality but it was one of the most authentic and honest things he has ever said to me.  It makes me sad too- because of course I want him to have long beautiful life so his discussing his mortality at all is not easy. But I believe he feels a call to service of others. And if that calling was to join the Navy than I now call myself a proud mom of a Navy recruit. And will try to navigate my own fears as I root him on  -and – I let him go on his life’s journey.

I just miss him.

Guilt

Author Note—Each day I have meant to break this unplanned writing hiatus but it just hasn’t happened. I have plenty of topics to write about – I just don’t make time for it- or when I do the words seem to fall flat. Usually when that happens I know maybe it because I am not being as honest in my writing as I should be. Sometimes there is a balance being able to be honest and keeping a boundary in my writing so as not to bring hurt to others I care about. Sometimes I just can’t find that balance and I don’t post what I write – but it still exists perhaps as a journal entry – or something I can go back to later. Either way the words inside me have been purged and sometimes- if I am writing in distress -that helps and there is no need to send it out to the “webisphere”.  But I want to make writing my habit again. I really do. So I just need to DO It!

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Soon after my son – I am going to call him SonA- went out of state to rehab I found myself sitting in front of his PA at the primary care office we all go to. I was there with another family member about their medical issue – and there I sat quietly in the small exam room- but there was that elephant in the room. PA knew about SonA and that he was in rehab. We had briefed him on the phone about it. So I wasn’t sure if I should bring it up to brief him on the latest info or stay quiet. 

 I didn’t want to bring SonA up because it was my other family members time but between the hellos , how are you’s and getting to the medical issue at hand – it came up. It began with just an update. SonA was going to be moved to a transitional program because there was an issue with insurance. A big issue that had required involving PA -but that is another story entirely – but it had been rectified by the time I saw PA. SonA was to look for employment, go to group meetings daily and see a therapist weekly. 

We chatted a bit about addiction and mental health issues. And all at once PA looks at me and tells me not to feel guilty. I looked at him trying to form a sentence – was I going to cry? He continued to say that so many parents blame themselves for the choices their kids make and that I shouldn’t because this was not my fault. I thanked him and told him I didn’t feel guilty because I know the choices SonA made were his own. Just as any bad choice I have made over my lifetime is not anyone else’s fault. Even though I blamed some of them on others in the past.

But I wasn’t really being truthful – there is guilt – it is multifaceted. So often I think to myself – did anything I did as parent push SonA into addiction? Did we have a bad phone call while he was at college and he went off angry and with a Fxck You attitude and guzzled a bunch of booze and that was the domino that turned into alcoholism? Did I not try hard enough over the years to get him to talk to therapists we took him too- where he would chat about his brilliant ideas (and he is amazingly smart) but he would never open up about his troubles? I begged him to give them a chance – he really never could. Or as he was growing up did I add onto the trauma he already had from being and adopted child? 

I wasn’t a great mom. I was in over my head. I got angry, I yelled, and I spanked my kids. I believed in spankings. I don’t anymore. My dad believed in spankings, we got the belt, or we were threatened with the belt. As a mom, when the kids were young, I had many convos over spankings vs no spankings, time outs vs time ins etc etc. All I can say is in hindsight I have changed my tune on many things. But I know I thought when I was raising my kids I was doing my best – and I was. But now I spend time hating myself for being so rigid, so stressed- just not the mom I thought I would be.

 I have guilt that I am trying to work on. I have apologized to my kids. Told them I hope I was fun sometimes. Was I fun? I think I was. I remember shopping in Walmart so many times for art projects that we could do on a hot summer day, or after school. We painted, and glued. Once or twice we all made gingerbread houses. I played with my kids, I love toys and I loved to play. I remember all of us dancing in the family room to classic rock. So I was fun too. But I still have guilt. 

I guess when you have kids that go through hard times because of their choices any parent may feel some of the way I do. I truly know I did not make my son into an alcoholic, I know that my son has had some mental health issues for a long time. But what I do know is that we spend our lives trying to undo the damage that our childhoods inflict on us. I hate to think I contributed to my son’s issues.

I think even the kid who grew up with the best parents like my husband did will not come out of childhood unscathed. He himself is an alcoholic with 34 plus years of sobriety under his belt.

We never come out of childhood without battle wounds. As we are developing our brains as young kids – becoming a more fully formed individual -we are effected by so much around us.  Then we spend much of our lives making choices based on our early experiences and we inflict that damage onto others and but hopefully we give them our good stuff too- it is why there are cycles of the same behaviors in families. If we are lucky and we begin to see the issues then we can begin to do the work to better understand ourselves –  and we can learn how the experiences in our lives have driven how we behave…and then we can work to have better reactions and to make better choices. Some people never get to this self discovery part. So I guess I should be happy I have. 

But that still doesn’t take away my guilt. I just have it. I want to forgive myself for not being an awesome mom. I am working on it because I do know I did do some good things. But there are so many things I would like to redo. Maybe thats why some people dive into grandparenting with a vengeance so they get a redo. Some things are so much more clear in hindsight. We can do so much better when we have gained some wisdom. 

SonA called me early on in his rehab and I again apologized to him. He said it wasn’t my fault. He said that I had been a good mom and he had been a shitty son.  That hurt too. You never want your kids to feel so badly about themselves. 

I told SonA he wasn’t a shitty son. Had he been challenging? Yes. But I told him he was a kid and I was the adult and I have to own my part- there were times I could have done better – responded better.  He has a beautiful mind – a beautiful soul. He just has some things to work on if he will trust the program he is in and the therapist he is seeing. I don’t want him to live with guilt. 

Are we just destined to it? To live with guilt? Maybe when we feel guilty it is an opening to begin to dig deep into that feeling – own the mistakes, learn from them and heal. That is what I am trying to do. Own my mistakes – look at them and then work with them – if I need to apologize for something I do.  I try not to soak in the guilt because I get stuck there and that isn’t healthy.  I am a bit stuck now. I probably need therapy and will look in the fall for someone – I have so much going on this summer. Maybe I will pull myself out before then. Writing this helps…even if the mom police want to shame me. 

But the good thing is I am still a parent and I  get to be an improved parent to my kids. I get to make the adjustments and changes I needed to make. My parenting goes on though it has a changed role now that they are young adults.

But guilt can run deep. I have learned that others might forgive you, God forgives you, but sometimes the hardest thing to do is to forgive ourselves. 

Difficult things

This is a topic that is rather private  for me and very hard to talk about. I have not been one to share too much on family issues over the years. I do feel that by sharing some of my experience on this issue that perhaps it will help other families in this crisis. Or maybe at the least they won’t feel so alone. So here goes…

My neighbor – whom I’ve never met (we live in the country so houses are further apart)-  startled me the other day as I was about to grab some dog food out of the garage. I was harried and late for feeding time and bone tired from lost sleep. She said something as she stood in my driveway. “Pardon?” I asked. But I thought I knew exactly who it was and I was right.

“Are you Mrs. Sweeney?”. She asked again. “Yes” I answered.. “It was your son who….the other night”

I am going to save you the exact details of that event but my 18 year old son fueled by alcohol became a volatile and crazed the other night –  and he ran out of the house as I was calling the police and subsequently terrorized our neighbor. I feel so awful for what they went through. I am sure in his state he thought he was trying to get into our house but he can’t remember any of it. I know it was terrifying for this neighbor and what I heard I can never un-hear. You never want to know that your child is in such a terrible state of mind.

It turns out he was suicidal that night and I have found out since this episode that he has been this way for months and even tried to kill himself over spring break in our home and we never knew about it. A friend came to his aid and my son promised to tell us he was in a bad way the next day – he never did.

The severity of his issues at this time is a shock to my husband and me – his having depression/anxiety is not.  He has been treated for years for ADHD and Depression/anxiety.  The problems we ran into over the last few years were twofold- our son didn’t want to confide in anyone – he was a locked up safe – so therapy was futile though we did send him.  And secondly getting a Psychiatrist for a teen is not easy. We have a definite crisis in this country with the mental health system and it is even worse if your child is and adolescent.

This is really a country crisis not a family crisis. If families can’t get help for their mentally ill children we can have more mass shootings and suicides. I know the problem. There aren’t enough beds so if you have to have your kid seen in the ER and want him/her admitted it is almost impossible – even when the person is suicidal. If the patient stabilizes they release them. And if you are afraid for your own safety or other family members and you want your minor child not to come home then you can be criminally charged in some states or charged with abandonment in others if you leave him/her in the ER.  And if CPS get involved then life can become hell.

In my son’s case he should have been admitted but because he was drunk – a new issue since he began college- they waited for him to sober up. By the time we called in the AM and asked to speak to the mental health specialist in the ER he had already been put into an Uber and sent home- in fact he already had snuck back into the house.  And the fact he was 18 and an adult gave us really no say in anything anyway.

I was so angry with the system. I was angry with myself to? I had been trying to get him to tell me what was going on all semester as I saw his grades plummet and work not being handed in. He rarely would answer my texts or calls and when he did he was short with me. I thought it was motivation- he is brilliant – so I knew he was smart enough to understand the concepts. He just wasn’t doing the work. I am sure my lectures on motivation, asking for academic help,  and my frustration over the lack of drive was not helpful as he was overcome by the feelings he was having. I feel like I missed the mark and now we are here.

This kid has not been an easy one to raise. Our relationship has been ok at best and non-existent at the worst.  But regardless you never want to know your child is hurting in this way. And you never want to see their trajectory in a downward spiral. I knew my kid could lash out in anger at us.  He could be a handful at home but he never directed anger toward friends or in school. But I can see he was crying for help and he was getting his comfort from alcohol and binging to relieve his pain. And then he blew.

My children are adopted and that fact in itself make them have a much higher percentage for mental health issues and substance abuse issues. We talked openly about this in our family. I myself have anxiety and have fought a battle with that for years. We went to family counseling for years. For me there isn’t shame in mental illness but it is hard to talk about for many.  But when it came to my kids issues I only confided in a few people close to me. But we should be able to talk about this. Parents should not feel alone.

I was lucky because I found a support group for parents with adopted kids and it really saved my sanity. We weren’t alone anymore. I had a group that understood the specific issues of the adopted child. But I kept silent in my writing most of the time. There is so much parent shaming/mommy shaming out there. And if you haven’t raised adopted kids you really don’t know the issues. But mental health issues and addiction can effect all of us and that is why I share this. It is not easy for me. My heart breaks for my child that I have wanted to reach all these years but haven’t been able to. Who I have often not liked  but have loved and tried so hard to help in every way to succeed and to be happy. It is what we want for our children. But sometimes they have to want that for themselves more than we want it for them…hopefully now we are on the right path,

The good news is that for the most part my son has allowed us to help navigate him when it comes to his mental health care. But the bad news is that he has not been open about how severe his issues have gotten so he wasn’t getting the help he truly needed.

The depression and hopelessness he was feeling was the gasoline and alcohol has been the flame. Thankfully his friends were very forthcoming when they realized my son was in crisis last week.  When I reached out they told me of their worry for him and told me of things he had done or said that helped the mobile crisis team -that came to our home after the ER failed us – understand that my son needed intervention. I must thank these friends for caring so much for my son who they recognize as a troubled but loving and caring friend. I felt happy that he has made these friends -that wasn’t always easy for him. I hope they remain a support for him in the future.

I know that such swift help is not usually the case as I briefly discussed above.  But if not for the mobile crisis team I would not have known where to turn for the help that my son had agreed to. I would have probably taken him back to another hospital and sought to get him admitted. But the crisis team had other options.

How did I find this team – that came to our home less than two hours after we called them? The police officer that came to our home the night before – after they found our son and got him transported to the hospital- handed us a card and explained that this team might be of some help.  At the moment I didn’t picture our son coming home. I wanted him admitted and then after that I didn’t know. So I didn’t think we would use that card but I set in on the bookcase and sure enough the next day we used it.

I had given my son two options- we will take you to a homeless shelter or you can get help.  I said to him whatever he’d been doing up until now was not working and things were just getting much worse for him. He was lucky he didn’t get arrested or shot when he not only trespassed but terrorized our neighbor. What would be next for him if he didn’t get help? I waited for his answer- and he chose help. I thanked God.

Once that crisis team got there they asked many questions and my son was very honest and became very emotional during this time. I felt so bad for him but also maybe this was a small breakthrough to releasing the pain he has been living with. The team got him a place at a rehab- which at first I didn’t feel he needed but once we realized that he had alcohol issues we realized that a rehab would be the best place for him. They will work on the substance abuse and also the underlying issues he has been dealing with. He will see a therapist and a psychiatrist. He will attend group sessions on many subjects.

They got him in a good one…one that is based on music as a therapy- he loves music. He flew that night to another state and is now on this journey to recovery. We were very lucky that we got him help so fast.  I thank him for being so open to getting it. I know he was faced with an option but I can tell he knew the best option was to help himself by getting help.

This can be a new beginning for him. I don’t want to have expectations – this is his journey with many battles and there are many things he has to deal with before he knows what his next steps in his life will be.  I hope he can shed his demons or at least begin the process. It can be so freeing and maybe he will see many possibilities for his life.

This is not an easy share for me but I felt I needed to be open. I do want to stress – If you are suffering or have a child who is don’t be afraid to speak up. If you have had a hard time getting mental health help perhaps a mobile crisis unit might be of help. And if you are a friend of a person having trouble please report it to someone. You could save a life. 

 

 

 

 

 

Powerless- in search of MY power. 

Recently my friend and author Jon Katz wrote a blog post on truth and power. 

In his post he quotes author Bill Ferguson (“How To Take Your Power Back”) who describes what it means to lose your power in this way: “When you fight the truth of the way your situation is, you give it power. You make yourself a victim and put yourself at the effect. To get your power back, stop the resisting. Surrender to the truth of the way your situation is.”

This quote really resonated with me. This issue of giving up power in ones life isn’t foreign to me. But where this idea sits with me now in my current situation which has been incredibly hard for me.  I have been in terrible pain all summer. See links to those posts below.  I’ve been bed bound much of the time. It’s been a mind blowing and mind changing time. I’ve seen the worst of myself and maybe sometimes the best of myself. I’ve become dependent on others in ways I didn’t think would be necessary until I was much older. Having to have your husband wash your hair when there’s no chance of hanky panky isn’t where I want to be in my life. I’m unable to care for my kids like I want. Thankfully they are teens and have some ability to be self sufficient (sometimes that’s not as good as it sounds). I can’t care for my animals and let’s face it – these are my animals. Nobody else in this house would have all these beings to care for if it wasn’t for me and I am responsible for them and I can’t even carry a bucket of feed. 

But I don’t want to become a victim -yet I think I have.  I don’t want this situation to have power over me. Yet it does. I mean I can’t get out of bed because of the pain.  Maybe in my case I could be seen as a victim of this particular circumstance  – I didn’t ask for cancer (who does) and I certainly tried to deal with and find answers to my pain issues after cancer treatments to keep me from getting this bad.  Yet here I am. And I’m angry and scared. But this is not who I want to be. My husband and I have spent long hours this summer trying to find the help to fix me. I’m trying not to feel victimized. Yet I’ve run into many roadblocks and I’ve began to lose hope and that sunk me deeper into despair and then I have become more of a victim and I realize what’s really happened is that the hopelessness I’ve felt is really me feeling powerless in my situation. 

How does one get that back their power? 

According to the quote above I need to stop fighting the truth of my situation. But does that mean I’m giving in to it? Accepting that this is my life? It seems too unacceptable  for me to do that.  It seems more like giving up. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe by accepting the truth of my situation doesn’t mean I accept its going to go on forever but if I accept the truth of where I am now I can actually take back some of the power I’ve lost and begin to regain some hope. 

To keep fighting the truth of my life at the moment isn’t doing anything positive for me. Sure I’ll wallow in times of great pain and I’ll cry rivers of tears but perhaps to accept where I am now will enable me to see that this doesn’t have to be where I’ll always be. And somehow maybe that will make me feel less afraid and less like I’m in a cage. Will I then feel like I have power again?  Because I have lost my power and I never realized this as the truth until I read Jons post. 

We can so easily let our power slip away – we don’t even see it. 

I don’t know if I can accept where I am as my truth now. Even though I know it’s my truth. It’s the fear that this will be my truth on and on and I don’t know how I’m getting out of it. I’m tired of the loneliness of sitting in my room in my bed watching TV, being comforted by my dogs, reading books,taking pills, and oddly worrying about getting fat, or thinking things too sad to share here.  I’m just not willing to give into this fully as my truth yet darn it. But it is my truth right now. I do feel the times when I am able to face it and not let the what ifs take over and I give in to the reality a little a I feel that planner Anne step up and say OK what do we do now to get me the hell out of this place? I feel that power in that moment.  I know she’s there. Under this frustrated and weakend human being that old Anne is still there. And she has been robbed of her power off and on much of her life but has always managed to get it back.And in some ways she may never get it all back. But in this current situation that’s is not acceptable. She needs to get better. 

  I think power comes in many facets of our life and perhaps when we find power in all the facets we reach some true synergy .  I’ll be lucky to find that in this lifetime. There are still too many things that have power over me -but I’ll take finding my power again in finding my way out of where I am now. 

In my moments of weakness I have wondered if I’ve done something so horrible in my life that I’m now paying some type of penance at this moment in this situation. My dear husband said if my rationale were true we all would be paying for our sins in  some terrible way.  Criminals wouldn’t need to go to jail if it was tit for tat- ok he’s right on that point. 

 Am I supposed to learn something from this situation thats deeper than what I want to conceive? I don’t think things happen just because. I think things happen for reason and I think every single thing that happens to us in our lives gives us a chance to learn but maybe that’s my type A talking. I’ve had a lot of things happen over a short span of time and I’m still trying to figure out what I’m supposed to learn from these things. But laying here pretty much helpless has giving me perspective on some things maybe that’s the point. I now have a better understanding of how people with chronic pain live. It’s not just take a pill and get the hell up and do something -that’s so not how it works -maybe in the past that’s how I thought it worked. Now I get it. I know how I’d like to live my life when I’m finally freed from this bondage. And maybe I’ve learned to be a tad more patient.  But maybe this is one of those things that you understand better in hindsight much later in your life. 

Or maybe I’m having one hell of a pity party and I’m not willing to see it. 
 I really don’t want to feel like a victim of my own story in this situation -I don’t want to feel hopeless.  It’s just that so many doors have opened and closed on me on this journtey. I have this fear that if another door closes I won’t have the strength to find another door to knock on.   The closing doors are like kryptonite to my power.

But I have a voice and my husband has a voice and we can and should feel powerful to use it to tell my story a thousand times until someone listens.  I’ve been giving others – in this case doctors and other health professionals all the power- and I’ve felt powerless which led me to lose hope. But I have a husband to lean on that is a blessing because others in my situation might not have that. And he’s been the driving force behind getting me to places and getting me heard. He’s been the shoulder I’ve leaned on when I just couldn’t take anymore.  He’s as frustrated as I am and Saddened that ive gotten this bad. Thankfully this week I did meet a couple of doctors that seemed as shocked about this as we are. I’m too afraid to put too much hope in them. It’s just too hard. 

It’s been hard for me to write about it -physically BC using my arm for too long brings on pain. (i’m learning to depend on the “voice to type” function on my iPad and I’m getting better and better at it) and  to get myself to write about it has been mentally hard. But when I do write the truth about it I feel freer. That’s the power I have -to express my pain and my anger and at times my sorrow. This is my voice right here where I am now and to me writing is power and as long as I’m writing I’m not giving up and that’s hopeful.  Right? 

The only way I’m going to get hope  back is to accept where I am now and that it sucks big big big time but this situation isn’t going to own me and squash me. The way I’ve been feeling -victimized- isn’t doing me any good at all. Something has needed to change. Do I want this to have power over me? Do I have the power and the strength to face it head on?  Maybe I have been facing it but in bits and pieces. Sometimes being in pain just makes you want to shut out the world and sleep and not deal with this at all. But maybe when I face the truth  in those  bits and pieces I gain some power and I get back some hope. And  Maybe that’s the best I can do now – moments of power moments and of hope. But it’s something.

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If you need to catch up you can read  my pain story from the beginning of the summer :

https://notreadyforaarp.com/2016/07/24/figuring-it-out/

https://notreadyforaarp.com/2016/08/21/sidelined-the-summer-goes-on/

Figuring it out. 

August brings about the end of summer break for my kids and the anniversary of my diagnosis of breast cancer.  This year will be three years from my diagnosis and sadly I am not in great shape – and it is not where I thought I would be three years out from cancer. 

I had an early mammo in June because I have been dealing with exacerbating nerve pain. So the first thing they rule out was more breast cancer. And the mammo and sonogram – done for safety purposes- were clear. Normally I would post such an event on Facebook and we would all celebrate. But this year I just cannot do it. Its not because I am not thankful for the news I am…but I have too much bitterness right now.

How can one be grateful and bitter all at once? Its rather easy for me. I can separate one from the other. Cancer in breast is gone – yay! But pain that stems from all the breast cancer therapies is as worse as its ever been.

The reason for my bitterness and profound sadness is twofold- the first being that i am not loving being almost bedridden with nerve pain. Too much movement throws me into pain and discomfort so I have basically tabled any fun thus far this summer in order to be able to get through the day with the least amount of pain as I can. So I am pretty bitter, sad and depressed.

The other reason I am bitter is because I began speaking with my doctors about these nerve issues over two years ago. And nobody really listened. Early on they twice tossed me over to the Lymphedema (LE) specialist and I even got a fancy pump for a really mild case of LE and finally the LE specialist told me she couldn’t help me anymore (not her fault- I was not being prescribed the right treatment).

I lived with the pain for a good while after that and from time to time I would try a new doctor or mention it again to another – but by the end of May the pain became more than I could deal with anymore. I needed help. The idea of having to find someone to listen to me and really hear what I was saying was daunting. I had never gotten any help in the past for the pain and I didn’t have confidence in my own cancer doctors to think they would listen.Thats enough to squash a spirit – even one like mine that can put up with quite a bit before it gets squashed. But frankly I have been through ALOT of crap over the last three years and my spirit is beat. The idea of spending my summer and perhaps my life feeling like this was just too much.

The thing was as my symptoms exacerbated they began to look like I had a condition that is not uncommon to woman who have been treated for breast cancer but sadly it is often misdiagnosed and often overlooked.   I had what looked like Post Mastectomy Pain Syndrome (PMPS) it’s also called Post Breast Therapy Pain Syndrome. Basically it is nerve damage of one kind or another that results from breast cancer treatments. It’s can vary in its symptoms and pain levels. I had a couple outlier symptoms too and those were the ones I lived with for the last two years and I can see how these might have thrown docs for a loop but honestly tingling and burning pain is nerve related and after a while someone should know what to do or where to send me. And I now wonder had we addressed these things sooner would i not be sitting here with the escalating pain I have?

I saw many doctors who were very puzzled by my issues.  I felt like I was getting passed around like a hot potato. But as the symptoms began to match those of PMPS I became more adamant and maybe pushy and weepy a few times (I don’t like when I cry in front of my docs BC they see cray cray lady) with my doctors insisting I was not doing well and I needed to be helped ASAP. 

The last thing I wanted to do was to bring up what I think I might have wrong with me with my doctors. But the way I see it is that I am being my own advocate. There isnt any doc going home and doing hours of research on my behalf. So the key is to find someone who will listen to you and the research you have done and want to work with you. Its a needle in the haystack in my experience. 

 We survivors are supposed to suck it up- learn to live with our “new normal” -but my new normal is way worse than my old one BBC (before Breast Cancer). I am willing to suck much of the discomfort up for the result of being cancer free – but I want quality of life too and I think I should be able to have that- or maybe I need to come to the realization that I might not get. But I am not there yet. 

There is that voice that kept telling me to just get on the internet and do what I do best- research.  If anyone out there needs to employ a researcher I am your girl. I have spent hundreds of hours while sitting in bed figuring out who needs to see me. This pain syndrome I have has literature dating back over 14 years. But the problem of PMPS is just starting to become more looked into. But it’s slow going. It’s hard to find the right people. 

My research paid off.  I found that a physiatrist I saw last summer is actually doing research on PMPS treatments. Physiatrists specialize in rehabilitation. I was lucky since I had been to see him last year I got a quick appointment. Last year I didn’t give much of a chance to help me as I wasn’t having as intense pain back then and I was managing it somewhat and was not wanting to do what he was thinking of prescribing for my frozen shoulder on my cancer side.  Bad patient. Since then my shoulder has thawed (which may be why my nerve symptoms  are worse ) and now my other shoulder has frozen. (Lucky me). I also have a broken toe but that’s not even a factor at this point -I just taped them together.  It’s been a cluster around here. really. 

I have now seen this physiatrist again and I am going to see this thing through  with him. He listened to me and asked me many questions. He seems to care. He has done some diagnostic testing and I’m set to get injections in the next couple weeks. We are developing a plan that will include injections and oral meds (which I hate taking so I’m waiting to see how well the injections help) and maybe physical therapy. It will depend on the testing results I suspect. So there is hope but this pain syndrome is complicated as most chronic pain is. 

I’ve looked into alternative treatments too. My TENs machine has been a huge help and I’ve gone to massage and done a treatment on a biomat. I think doing these things has helped me feel less helpless. 

Now that I’ve got someone trying to help me feel better I need to get my mind in a better place. It’s taking some work. And it may be that I need to talk to someone.  I’m feeling a lot of anger and perhaps it’s not only because of the run around I’ve dealt with over this issue but also just the cancer itself. I don’t blame myself for being angry but I also know that talking that out with someone may help move me ahead. 

I also want to be able to cling to hope. For a while I felt hopeless. That’s a scary place to be. I think being heard by a doctor has given me validation. But I know that I may be dealing with chronic pain for good. That’s hard for me to bite off now. I’m hoping that I can get back to things I love like riding my horse and working out. I’ve been walking daily so I don’t go insane. 

I just want to live my life the best I can. I want to enjoy new things and travel. But I don’t want too ahead of myself -just going out to dinner with the family is a good goal now.  

I’m am trying to get the spark back to write because that is something I can still do. Everything just feels off for me now and I’m hoping as I move forward to get myself fixed I’ll start to figure this all out. 

And when I get more details to this story I’m going to let my cancer Doctor know the path I took to get help and perhaps it will help them know what to do the next time a woman comes in and complains of chronic pain. If I could save someone else the frustration of running in circles for years trying to get help when she’s feeling badly then maybe this will have been worth it. 
 

——

Info on PMPS:

This one mentions chest wall pain and tingling which baffled my dos BC I said it made me cough. 

https://www.sharecare.com/health/breast-cancer/what-is-post-mastectomy-pain-syndrome

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http://www.plasticsurgerypractice.com/2012/02/understanding-and-treating-postmastectomy-chronic-nerve-pain/

Staying Silent is Easier

This week I have been following the story about Brock Turner who was convicted on three counts of rape in a jury trial. I am sure many have seen at least something about it on the news or on the internet. Brock is a student at Stanford. He is an Olympic hopeful in swimming. And he is a rapist. But he only is going to jail for three months if he is on good behavior or he might serve his full sentence six months if he is not. Six months? It seems not enough. (update: I missed the fact that Stanford expelled Brock and US Swim banned him. – so some natural consequences are happening – thanks Rachel C for giving me these facts that I missed.)

The judge in the case – Aaron Persky- is also getting huge backlash- he has been recently reappointed to his seat on the bench as he ran unopposed – but there are petitions to have him removed. I don’t know why he felt that six months was enough other than he said “A prison sentence would have a severe impact on him. I think he will not be a danger to others,”

Really? Severe impact- we don’t want that for Brock.

Here is a quote from the New York Times (full article here)

The judge, identified by The Guardian as a Stanford alumnus, handed Mr. Turner, a champion swimmer, far less than the maximum 14 years after he was convicted, pointing out that he had no “significant” prior offenses, he had been affected by the intense media coverage, and “there is less moral culpability attached to the defendant, who is … intoxicated,” The Guardian said.

The victim said Mr. Turner had admitted drinking, but still had not acknowledged any fault in the attack, insisting the episode had been consensual. She said the court privileged his well-being over her own, and in the end declined to punish him severely because the authorities considered the disruption to his studies and athletic career at a prestigious university when determining his sentence.

Seriously? – Oh My God – am I really reading this?

Have we forgotten about the victim? Didn’t she suffer a severe impact? Isn’t her life already severely changed?  Doesn’t she matter? (The answer is Yes She Does by the way). You can read what she had to say for yourself here – she wrote a 12 page letter and read it to the court. This young woman admits to getting drunk as happens to many people on occasion  – and often on college campuses- she was at a frat party -and she blacked out – she was very drunk -in fact she was unconscious when the two men on bikes (the Swedes) came across Brock and the victim as he was on top of her behind a dumpster dry humping away. Thank God for them. One of the Swedes was so upset by what he saw that he was crying when police got there. There are good men out there.

What she knows is that she did not knowingly consent to his touching her. Sadly the defense got to fill in the blanks because she doesn’t have a memory of the event. Brock says she consented to being fingered (sorry for the crassness) – but even if that is true – even if she said ok in her drunken state -is that really a manly thing to take advantage of a woman when she is that inebriated? Someone who can’t put sentences together? and to attack her behind a dumpster? (My mom brain cannot understand how Brock’s mom -who has a daughter- can even look at her son without wanting to hurl. Or at least want him to take responsibility.)I think there are many men who would have helped her home – not rip her clothing over her breasts and above her waist and then violate her.

So because of these young men – The Swedes- who did not turn the other way -but went to the victims aid – and chased Brock and caught him when he ran away – Brock was arrested and his family apparently chose a jury trial. So the victim over the course of a year had to relive this nightmare daily. She was made to look like a slut and a drunk in court. The defense tried to make it seem like she deserved it. Is this progress in woman’s rights? Nobody deserves it! But she endured the trial hoping justice would prevail. And it did. Brock was convicted of rape. But when prosecutors asked for a 6 year jail term (he could have been given up to 14 years) the judge ordered him to 6 months in jail of which he may have to serve only 3. It doesn’t seem right- it seems a slap on the wrist to me.

Brock’s father penned a note to the court asking the judge to make his sons sentence more lenient. The ordeal had taken a toll on Brock already – Brock wasn’t eating well. Brock seemed down. Brock might get to go to the olympics. He lost a scholarship. Don’t let this “twenty minutes of action” as stated by Brock’s father Dan, alter his life. His mother said he was trying to fit in with the other swimmers. Really? What planet is this family from? Now I see where the problem lies. And they have a daughter!

Read Dan Turner’s full statement here – if you can stomach the lack of culpability.

(If you want to read a great response to this situation from a man on Facebook read here. And another letter written to Brock’s father – Dan from an angry parent)

I often wonder what Brock thought during this trial.  Did he really believe his story? Did he really not think he was guilty of anything else but getting drunk? Or was his dad at the helm of this trial and his son along for the ride in the selfish hope that somehow all his hopes and dreams wouldn’t be squashed. Did he ever think about his victim? Did he care how she may have been effected, if she was eating, how her parents were feeling?  I would like to think somewhere inside he might feel these things and that he is only behaving in a puppet way so his lawyers will save him from losing out on life. But then I think someone who is really capable of treating a woman that way has some real issues.

I am a parent of two teen boys and a teen daughter. I hope I never to face this circumstance with any of my children. If it were one my sons I would like to think that I would want them to admit to their obvious wrong-doing- I certainly hope that I wouldn’t try to make them seem like the victim in all of it. Thats it not the type of parent I want to be. It would be gut-wrenching to watch my child’s ship sink but life has consequences. Imagine the victims family – imagine the victim- it is worse for them.  I have a daughter and I cannot imagine being that family and how they must have felt.

I keep thinking of the victim. I hate that word but I don’t know her name. In my mind her name is Brave. I have wondered if the scenario had been much different- if she had woken up in the wee hours of the morning in Brock’s dorm room- thinking- “Oh crap where the hell am I”- realizing she may have been violated and had no memory of it would she have reported it? Or would she just get herself dressed and quietly slip out of that dorm room – head hung – walk of shame – would she have just gone home and never told anyone?

Or what if she woke up behind that dumpster – hair full of pine cone needles..skirt up over her waist – exposed. No Swedes to find her. Would she have reported it? I don’t know – and she didn’t get that chance to find out. She had to face her violator in court – she wasn’t able to move on she had to face it every day. She was torn up in court. The only hope is that justice is done. And yes there was the guilty verdict but then there was the sentence which says we have to do something but we don’t want to ruin his life. No justice at all. And perhaps a long sentence would have felt hollow to her as well. She said she hoped maybe he would have admitted to something – apologize- just give her something to allow her to forgive. But he didn’t – he said his only crime was getting drunk- and thankfully the jury saw different. She wrote in her dialogue that she can’t forgive him and I so get that but I hope she does. Because even though he doesn’t deserve forgiveness the act of forgiving him will free her from being a victim for life. He cannot have the power to steal her life – he gets his back in 3-6 months- so she should get hers.

This brings me to my point (other than just being pissed about it) of why I write this. Had there had been no Swedes and she went home after she woke up behind a dumpster and cleaned herself up and went on with life could you blame her? It happens all the time – women are violated but don’t report it because of fear or guilt that it could be their fault. ” I was flirting”. “I was drunk” I wore my skirt too short” And then you have the court system that is supposed to supply justice and punishment and we know that the victim has to go through a lot of hell at trial and then the outcome may be a slap on the wrist for the perpetrator. What woman wants to drag herself through that?

This has been an issue for years. You would think that with all the advances woman have made over the years we would have some equality when it came to instances like this. Why are woman always made out to be at fault in a case like this? “She was so sexy I had to jump her and rape her – its her fault”. “She was so drunk and she was all over me – she wanted it.” “Well she is the campus Ho – so she was asking for it.” Sounds so dumb right? Yes but this is how it goes down in court and the court of public opinion even if it is more subtle than that.

Honestly, I cannot believe we still have this barbaric thinking. It was the same when I was young. I know because I was a victim (and I hate that word) of an act (was it a crime?) I never could wrap my head around that. I tried to make it nothing- and I made it my fault. But a hand over my mouth and a threat and me giving in to avoid certain consequences seems like a crime now. But then I wasn’t about to tell anyone a thing. I did tell my then boyfriend who was going to kill the guy- bc we knew him- he was my ex- boyfriend. But we both knew I would never tell anyone of authority.

Staying silent was easier.

I don’t want that for woman in 2016. But we have done nothing to encourage woman who have been harmed to stand up and come out and fight. It is too hard and to what end? A slap on the wrist of the criminal? Sometimes no conviction even – sometimes just pure humiliation on the victims part.

We need to do better than this. We need to teach our boys better, we need better justice. We need woman to matter more. Oh people say we matter but when you look all over this world you see the injustices done to them – the harm the humiliation. Cant we do better in this country?

We need to because as far as I can see right now silence is the road most travelled.

We must do better.