Let Me Sleep or Prepare to Die.

Today my hairdresser text me to postpone my hair cut appointment due to sick littles at her house. In the midst of our conversation I wished her well and my hopes that she would be able to catch up on her beauty sleep. She laughed and lamented the need to catch up on a LOT of beauty sleep. Aw, sleep, how I loveth thee. So much that I hereby warn my lovelies that if you mess with my sleep you may die. Don't believe me? Ha, good luck with that.  

Not long ago I read a compelling article about the increase in postpartum depression in women because there is an expectation to forego sleep because you're the mom and that's what you do. It posed some really staggering statistics about the increase in depression and mental illness in the early days of a new baby because the mamma is so damn tired.  Why does it have to be that way? Let the mama take a nap already!

I'll be perfectly honest with all of you that my biggest fear of being pregnant isn't actually being pregnant. It's the after-my-baby-is-born part. I know that I'm 100% capable of being a kick ass mom, but I don't know if my brain can do it. I'm a planner and a calculated maker of choices and the unknown of what might happen postpartum, based on my history, is hella scary. But, I digress....sort of.

So, why am I so cray about sleep? Well, two words: zombie redhead. I mean, let's be honest, I'm an unfiltered, sassy pants when I'm rested and fed. Do you really want to mess with the alternate version of Ray? Hint: the answer is N-O. All joking aside, I really am a believer in the immense power of sleep. While I was a teenager, my family would attend church at 9 am every Sunday. It was a contest to see who could eat lunch and be down for a nap the fastest after we got home. It was a win-win for my mom that all of her children inherited their dad's champion napping skills because it meant she had guranteed quiet time. I looked forward to my Sunday nap and I still do. As a busy teen, I needed those 2-4 hours to recharge my brain for the next week. This continued as a college student and in to my adult life. At one point in my career I lived close enough to my office that I could sneak in a 15 minute nap on my lunch hour. Those power naps saved me during a very trying time of life. 

Sleep has a way of resetting my mental batteries and helping me cope with just about anything. It grounds me during the storm.  When I've had a rough day I generally cry it out (remember how I'm a stress crier?), take a bath, take a nap and THEN make a plan of how to handle the situation. I know myself well enough to know that making any kind of decision while I'm sad and tired is just asking for trouble. Emotionally driven decisions are generally rash and short sided.  Nap it out, then work it out.  #putthatonapillow

The other reason I'm a fighter for the cause of sleep is because I know that in any kind of depression situation, the first thing to go is sleep. I know this because I've experienced it. I've spent too many nights staring at my ceiling and the spinning overhead fan while waiting....begging....for the sleep to come and as soon as the sun came up I couldn't stay awake. It's a viscious cycle and I guard my ability to sleep when I'm meant to sleep more than anything. 

I think the best reason to let me sleep (besides not dying) is my ability to move mountains when I'm rested and recharged. Let me sleep and when I wake we can move mountains. It's so simple! 

The moral of the story: Zombie redheads aren't fun. Let the lady sleep. Trust me.

Until next time, my lovelies!

-R

The Roots of Our Soul.

Over the years, I've often thought back on some of the poorest choices I made in my life and how they came about and why I thought it was acceptable to do it.  One particular instance haunts me because I know that it was a choice made while I was in pain and without deeply planted roots of self confidence and love for myself.  I've forgiven myself, but I will always live with a reminder in my brain of the how and why and that I am forever grateful I was brave enough to face my fear and be a better person in spite of myself.

I think many of us make choices in our lives because our roots are weak and we think that our worth is far less than it actually is so why would it matter if we do what we do? It breaks my heart when I have people tell me, "I hate myself so much that I can't accept that someone might love me."  What brings a person to this point?  The breakdown of trust, communication and a spiritual root system that keeps them intact.  I've been there. It's a dark, cold, lonely place. But, the good news is, it doesn't last forever.  And thank goodness.

I reference my time in organized therapy on a regular basis because I am not ashamed that I sought help to cope. I also want others to feel safe in talking with me about their struggles and their experiences with therapy. Therapy doesn't cure you. Not even CLOSE, but the greatest gift you can walk away with is the ability to grow your roots back and build a foundation again. It took about 6 weeks before I felt the breakdown of my weak root system. What commenced was a catastrophic meltdown and physical pain because of emotional issues. There is absolutely no way we can start over until we hit rock bottom. It's the moments of having absolutely nothing except for us and God that we figure out a way to conquer our fear to take root in new ways.

One of my all-time favorite Disney/Pixar movies is "A Bug's Life." For whatever reason it has always been a movie that I can pop in to calm my nerves and laugh. The dialogue and one-liners are some of Disney's finest. One scene in particular involves Flick attempting to give an analogy of the giant tree growing from a seed and the seed is actually a rock.  Dot says to him, "this rock is going to become a tree?" and Flick freaks out and has to reexplain his point and that it takes time to grow and become strong like the tree. I always laugh because Dot says to him, "you're weird." Oh how I can relate to being weird for being a woman who relates so well to analogies by a talking ant.

Another priceless gift that I gained from therapy was the ability to say to myself, "how can I apply this event, trial, whatever, to other aspects of my life?"  Along with that I also learned the valuable mental tool, "what have I learned from this mistake and how will I live my life differently because of it?" Both of those statements take an incredible amount of "reality check" and brutal honesty with ourselves because the answer may not be what we want to hear. To that I say with all the love in my heart, tough shit. Face reality, strip your pride and be brave and full of faith to face your weaknesses.

In nature, the strongest trees can withstand the elements of weather, wind and aging with a deeply bedded root system. The same goes for us.  I love the quote above about laughing at storms.  I don't know about you, but the last thing I'm doing in the middle of a storm, figuratively or literally, is laughing.  Usually I'm crying and hiding under my blankets in my bed.  The point of this quote is that we CAN face storms with a smile on our face if we have a root system that is strong and deep.  Without a solid root system, we can't discern what is right and what is wrong and where the boundaries lie as we fight the good fight and find ourselves again.

Many of you who read this blog know me personally and know the inner and external battles I've fought.  Some of you know more than others, but I want you ALL to know this, my roots of regrowth after I went to see my Jen is what changed EVERYTHING. (her website) I know this because I have never experienced anything like my 2015 and I am here to tell you that I didn't drown because I had roots of faith and strength to hold on to with all my might. I had love in my heart for myself and others around me and I kept myself grounded by serving and allowing others to serve me.

The moral of the story: Even when the roots are cut, they can still grow back and be better than ever.

Until next time, my lovelies!
-R

To Cope or Not To Cope...

Well, hello, my lovelies! First of all, HaPPy NEW Year! If you're anything like me you gave 2015 a swift kick in the ass and said hello to 2016 with gusto. I've been on a personal hiatus from le blog because I've been settling in to a new Chez Ray.  Chez Ray Country, as I've affectionately named it, is finally coming together which means my brain is less mushy and I can concentrate on the fun stuff like the bloggy blog!

They say that hindsight is 20/20, but I think it takes YEARS before that is actually true. I look back on some big life hurdles that I had in my 20's and a few of them I can say, "that happened for a reason because of THIS, but I don't know about that." Throughout my time in Utah, especially while I was in therapy, I was hella angry and bitter at my realities, but I know for certain that those 18 months of brutal shedding of toxins were preparing me for some tough life challenges that I would have 5 years later.  As I shared in my last post, Ogden was tough, but it was glorious.  I've officially been gone for 10 days today and they've been challenging, but they have also been full of peace. I have dubbed myself a "coping ninja" after 2015 because there were so many opportunities for me to give up and lay on the floor and get trampled and I didn't do it.  Not once. I paid my bills with hardly any money, I served others who were in far greater need than me and most of all, I turned back to God and put the outcome of my life in His hands.

To cope or not to cope? That is the question we face at times in our lives. I wish I could diagram it for some people because it seems that it is a concept that is not grasped by many. From an early age we teach our children that crying is not acceptable in certain circumstances and then at some point we hope that as teens and adults they pick up on the memo that crying is actually healthy and necessary and not a sign of weakness.  One of the first steps I had to take in my quest to be a coping ninja was letting myself cry.  I'm a stress crier.  It's ridiculous actually, but I've let it be. For many years, I was discouraged to cry in times of stress. The philosophy was that we cry when we are hurt; the rest of the time it shows we are weak.  Wrong, my lovelies.  Absolutely wrong. I held my crap together pretty well during 2015 and its long list of challenges, but there were a lot of times that I couldn't take it anymore and fell apart.  Probably the queen of all comeaparts (totally a word) was on New Year's Eve (impeccable timing) when the moving truck company called me to say that they did not have a truck on their lot in Ogden (I was in Idaho) and there was nothing they could do to help me since I wasn't standing in front of them with my fancy gold credit card in hand. I LOST MY MARBLES on the phone with the truck company employee. I'm sure she was pissed about being at work on the biggest drinking holiday of the year, but I was also completely pissed that it somehow wasn't her problem that the truck I had reserved ten days earlier wasn't sitting on her lot and I was finding out about it while my friend was there to pick up said M.I.A. truck.  The rest of the story goes like this: Uhaul saved the day and I got to move on New Year's Day as planned.  The end result was different than I had planned, but it still accomplished the same goal and for THAT I was grateful and moved forward.  That is coping.  Coping is accepting that we don't have control over everything so we need to accept what is and roll with it.

The second step in my coping ninja quest was finding the root of my pain and addressing the solution from there. I think it's really hard for people to be 100% honest with themselves about the root of their struggles. We all come from different religious backgrounds and family situations that have given us differing foundations (or none at all for some) of how to analyze our life and conquer our trials.  As a society we tend to opt to labels. "I have commitment and trust issues so I drink to numb the pain." "I just broke up with my girlfriend/boyfriend so I'm going to sleep with whoever will have me because that seems to make me feel better in the moment." "I've had a terrible day at work so I'm going to eat everything in my fridge and then throw it up so that I don't get fat." Each of those scenarios, drastic as they sound, are real and happen often to those around us.  I've generally been a "stop eating when life gets hard" kind of lady, but this year I didn't lose the token 20 pounds....I gained it.  I was SO angry when I realized that.  Wait what?  Because my fall back on stress should be the weight loss plan? What it really showed to me was my body was done and couldn't work on overtime to keep my brain functioning like a normal person AND burn fat AND keep me from killing small animals.  Not possible! Coping meant this to my body: going to bed at night and shutting my brain down to sleep, waking up my brain in the morning and filling my heart with faith to take more steps and sending messages to the muscles in my legs to take those steps out the door so I could conquer my trials. The rest was just details.

The third step is letting go of what we can't control and giving it over to a higher being. Many times I've had the opportunity to share my thoughts on God's role in my life. A lot of those opportunities have been to kids or teens so I have composed a simple version. Ironically, the simple version also appeals to the adult audiences because it's just that: plain and simple and to the point. Our life is a time line of events here, here, here and here. Sometimes we can handle a LOT and other times we can handle very little. The good news is that God and Jesus Christ fill in the gaps for us, as we communicate with them through prayer about our shortcomings and what we can't take anymore.  He then sends people into our lives to fill in the gaps, to fill our buckets when the well is dry.  I've experienced it over and over.  The element of coping comes in to play when we can put down our pride and admit that we are weak and the people being sent to help are there because WE NEED THEM. If you need help, ask, but don't turn away the acts of kindness when they arrive and seem remedial to you.  You are the source of someones intuition to help; don't crush that opportunity for them.  Let yourself be loved, looked after and blessed.

I am really grateful for the understanding that my life has a purpose and that my inability to control every little part is OK.  I'm also grateful that when I have a weepy weak day of missing my friends and loves that God fills in the gaps and carries me home and puts peace in my heart while I pour myself to bed.

The moral of the story: The future is bright for each and every one of us and we can accomplish a LOT with patience and the ability to breathe, trust and cope.

Until next time, my lovelies.
-R