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

Seasons of Life.

Hey hey, my lovelies!  It’s November!  How did THAT happen?  Wasn’t I soaking up sun in the pool like yesterday?  Sigh.  Winter is creeping its way in to the day-to-day of the ‘hood and it gives me much to be reminded about my love/hate relationship with the next three months at Chez Ray.

I’ve talked about my lifelong quest against that bitch named depression, but I wanted to focus on the seasons of our life in this post.  I’m also very pleased to reveal the fourth and final hair photo of this year’s series with Kel-Z Photography!  Behold straight and crazy hair, polka dots and lying on cobblestone at the Union Station in Ogden, Utah.  Cobblestone, you say?  Yep.  And the answer is no, it is not comfortable, but it looks cool so who cares??

I often forget that there are seasons in my life, both literally and figuratively, that I struggle with more than others.  Transition and change is hard for me. I was raised in a home with parents who valued roots and consistency.  We were all about traditions in our family, meaning we did the same things over and over every year for the holidays.  That proved to be really challenging for me as a young adult because I found myself being depressed because I was forced to spend Christmas Eve alone or not be able to travel home to visit my family.  At some point I finally came to terms with this fact: sometimes we have to do it alone and it’s OK.  Christmas Eve alone didn’t last very long once my family found out and I’ve since spent the holidays with my aunt and uncle and cousins and am never wanting for company during Christmas. 

Figuratively, seasons of emotional health come and go as well.  When I was in organized therapy, there was always this goal to complete the task.  Be done with weekly, bi-weekly then monthly visits.  I felt like I could check off the box and be done.  Therapy – check, double check, here’s my token t-shirt for the road.  However, I was taken aback when my therapist looked at me and said, “it’s ok for you to come back if you need to.  We call them booster visits in this office.”  I laughed it off because I thought I was better than that.  I had put in my time and I was bustin out of this joint.  Wrong.  Within a year, I was back on the sofa with my shoes off and my journal open sharing some of my struggles and getting my booster dose.  I was and still am eternally grateful for my Jennifer and her scrupulous note taking about my jacked up life and even better emotional roller coaster at that time.  I still really hated my reality even though I had just paid hundreds of dollars to get over the other set of crappy realities in my life.  Once I moved to Ogden, I breathed a sigh of relief because I FINALLY felt happy, I loved my neighborhood and I fit in.  I could rest easier beause my life was going to be EASY now compared to what it was in Salt Lake.

My days of unicorns, rainbows and clicking of red shoes in the ‘hood was numbered and I soon had some struggles set in with work.  Wait, what?  This isn’t supposed to be happening.  I just worked in hell at the last place, that can’t happen again.  But, it sorta did.  Ugh.  I pressed on and I took it as an opportunity to create sunshine in a season that was turning out to be a really crappy situation. 

Now fast forward to the last year.  I talked about the journey it’s been in my last post, but I have really felt the seasons of life pass before me in ways that I loathe and love.  I’ve had some life goals in my heart forever that I’ve been able to accomplish in the last couple of months. Along with that I’ve cried some big tears over mistakes and stupidity that appears to be a common denominator with me.  It’s dumb.  I fell APART last week because my lady plumbing appointment, which was grossly overdue, did not go as I had hoped.  I mean, how glamorous can anything with a paper gown and stirrups be?  But, I’ve had super chill appointments in the past and this one threw me off guard.  I lost my marbles in the bathroom and my boss found me.  Oops.  New employee is a sniveling, imperfect mess.  We talked long enough for me to stop sobbing and I tried to recount what had happened.  What finally came out of my mouth was this, “let’s back up this train and remember that I have just been through one of THE most stressful years of my life and apparently I didn’t lose weight in stress this time around.”  Le.  Sigh.  My boss offered some really consoling words about my worth and my beauty and I stopped crying and went back to my desk.  Can we all say it together, “DAMN the seasons of life!”  I was really really upset for about 4 days because my waistline took the biggest hit (besides my pride and my finances) during my unemployment ride.  But, the best part of this is knowing that it is only for but a small moment and I will be OK.  I feel better this week, but holy hell, I was one emotional girl last weekend.  Lame.  I hate it when I’m the girl that drives me the most crazy. 

In conclusion I would like to share a really special video with all of you.  My co-worker’s wife recently embarked on a project that will bring you to tears.  It’s entitled, “1000 words: A Silent Interview on Self Worth” and it takes the viewer on a journey of facial expressions and body language as a group of women and girls are asked questions about their life and the seasons that come and go.  I could hardly believe the power and hurt and emotion that came across as these women displayed their vulnerability.  I have included the video below and I hope you will take the time to watch it with all the women in your life, whether young or old.  The questions that are asked are critical and they remind me that we do NOT give ourselves enough credit, nor do we give others the benefit of the doubt that they might be in a really shitty season of life. 

The moral of the story:  Just like the leaves change and the snow falls from the sky, our lives bring seasons of change that last for a small moment, but still bring beauty and magic to our lives. 

Until next time, my lovelies!

-R

Guest Blogging: Pizza & Fighting Stigmas

Hello, my lovelies!  It's been an exciting summer and beginning of fall for me with lots of great blogs and feedback from all of you!  Among the many adventures, I was asked to guest blog for two blogs.  Please take a moment to read them!

Indie Ogden Utah: Peace. Love. Pizza.  - Business Feature on Lucky Slice Pizza in Ogden, UT.

"If you’ve been on Historic 25th Street you know there are LOTS of great restaurants, however only one of them offers peace, love and pizza to all that come to visit."

LINK TO THIS POST

Stigma Fighters: The Face of Depression.  

"I've often wondered what depression would look like from the inside out.  If we could use a microscope and snap a photo of what it looked like festering and burning inside someone's body......"

LINK TO THIS POST

Thank you for all of your continued support!  This adventure is just as much yours as it is mine!

Keep finding your sunshine!

Until next time, my lovelies!
-R

The Boston Girl : Becoming A Woman.

Becoming a woman.  A loaded statement if there ever was one.  I sometimes think back on my childhood and how I dreamt for my own money and the ability to choose and cook my own food and what clothes I wore all the time.  Ha!  What little I knew.  Adulting is hard!  It has its perks aka no curfew on Fridays or pizza for breakfast, but overall, the trade for the opportunity to pay bills and fix my car and do my own laundry isn't worth an unsupervised all-nighter and carb overloaded brunch from time-to-time.

Throughout my career vacation and book reading extravaganza, I've been inspired and moved by the characters I've met in each book. The most recent book that really touched me was "The Boston Girl" by Anita Diamant. The themes, tragedies and triumphs of this story brought me to tears and had me laughing just a bit, but overall it made me SO grateful to be a woman in an era when the quest for equality is present and mutual respect for women of any status is encouraged.  The women in this story lived during a time when their vote and their voice didn't matter and it wasn't easy.

The story takes place in the early 1900's in Boston.  Boston.  I heart Boston.  I'm convinced a piece of my heart still lives in Boston.  I visited while I was in college and it is a magical city.  The history, food (Cheers! - be still my heart), waterfront view, energy and cute Harvard boys rowing on the river all the time made it basically my heaven.  I loved every minute of being there. For this small town girl, the Boston version of city life was and is one that I dream of often.  One of the best parts of Boston is the historical district.  I caught a glimpse of it when I went to Cheers! to have dinner one evening.  Big, beautiful Victorian homes that took my breath away. I would love to say that the characters in the book were residents of these types of homes, but they were not.  They were a blue-collar Jewish family that did everything they could to survive living in their sufficient and very small flat.

Whenever I read a book I always look for themes that I can use in my own life and possibly a future blog post (nerd alert).  This book is full of themes that struck me to the core: women's rights, depression, death and mourning, religious respect and equality, family history and love.  Never ever forget the love.

The main character of the book is a grandmother who is giving her granddaughter a personal history of her life as a young Jewish girl in a family that had its struggles and much happiness.  As I read this book I thought of my own grandmothers and what they would tell me about being a young woman in their day and age.  What did they worry about?  What mattered to them?  What boys were they kissing before they met my grandfathers?  What was their love story and how did they know they had finally met the one they were going to marry?

There were a couple of specific quotes that I wanted to share with all of you and why they were memorable for me.  I won't tell you where they lie in the grand scheme of the book so there is still an element of surprise for the plot.

"When I look at my eighty-five-year-old face in the mirror today, I think, "You're never going to look better than you do today honey, so smile."  Whoever said a smile is the best face-lift was one smart woman." This is beautiful.  There are so so so so many days that smiling is the last thing we want to do.  How do we keep a smile on our face when we've had a major disappointment?  How do we smile through the tears when we've lost a loved one?  How do we smile when the bank account is depleted and the fridge is empty and the car needs gas?  Well, we just do. Fake it to make it.  If we really got technical and scientific, we would talk about the fact that there are muscles in our face that need stretching just as much as those everywhere else.  Stretch them, my lovelies!  Put a smile on your face and embrace the beauties and blessings of your life even amidst the storms.

"She said she felt better talking to someone she could see, someone who cared about her.  "The time I almost died in that bathtub, what kept me going was the look on your face and Irene's and that wonderful nurse.  I could see how worried you were, not angry or disappointed.  You just didn't want me to die.  And afterward, too, you never looked at me with anything but love: no pity, no judgement.  You made it possible for me to forgive myself."  Phew.  I so wish I could tell you the story behind this, but you'll have to read the book to understand the significance of this statement.  Even typing it brought a lump to my throat. In my own life, I have been immensely blessed with so many kind, patient friends and family members who have stood in front of me and embraced me and proved to me how much they cared. In our insanely BUSY and technology-driven world, it is very easy to shoot someone a text and tell them we care, but the human-in-front-of-human interactions are SO critical.  I loved the reference to looking at someone with 'anything but love.'  That is a magical moment, no matter the relationship or its status.  The connection that one can feel when their friend, family member, lover looks at them to convey their compassion is electric. It can save the day.  It can calm the heart and soothe the soul. When was the last time you felt that electricity in your own life? Thank the person. Hug them back. Say, "I love you."

"Women used to think we were supposed to act as if nothing had happened, as if losing a baby you wanted wasn't a big deal.  And if you did say something, people told you that you'd forget all about it when you have a healthy baby.  I wanted to punch them all in the face."  When I wrote my blog post "In My Life" I talked about some conversations I had that inspired me to write the post.  One of those was a conversation with my dear friend who has multiple angel babies waiting for her in heaven.  This week I witnessed the pain that is being felt by another friend who is facing the one year anniversary of her angel baby returning to heaven.  Women are still facing the grief and pain that surrounds bearing and losing children.  Medical advances are vast compared to 1925, but pregnancy and birth is still risky business and takes great faith.  I commend my darling friends for their great strength and faith as they face their life of saying the number of pregnancies vs. living children.

"The Boston Girl" is a book that I will not forget for a long time.  It gave me a perspective and appreciation for becoming a woman. I am LUCKY to have a vote, a voice, an education and a career that I enjoy.  I am also LUCKY to have my health and an understanding of how I can cope on the days that aren't so easy.

The moral of the story:  Becoming a woman in 2015 hasn't changed much from 1925.  The scenery and fashion has changed, but ultimately, we still have trials and triumphs and hope for sunshine and happiness after the storm.  Keep looking life in the face with love.  Never EVER forget the love.

Until next time, my lovelies.
-R
 

In My Life.

This new set of photos with the lovely Kel-Z Photography has really blown me out of the water.  It's by far the series that I am the most comfortable with and feel like I look like myself.  This particular outfit is no exception.  In fact, this outfit has a long list of stories.  The skirt basically cut off all breathing ability and we giggled a LOT as I tried to drive us around Ogden cut off lung capacity.  The belt is turned backwards because I think it looks dumb the "normal" way with this tunic from Chic Style Utah.   Last, but not least, the shoes are bad-ass-smokin hot, but were purchased in an extremely challenging period of my life.  And thus, we engage in some real talk avec Ray for this week's blog post.  

A couple of months ago I decided to deep clean the closet and donate a LOT of shoes to a non-profit that my friends run.  As I was going through my shoes I came upon these beauties.  At first glance my heart jumps a little because they are HOT.  Vintage-inspired, polka dots, peep toe, good heel.  But, in the same string of happy emotions, my heart also sinks just a tiny bit as I have a flashback with a flood of memories that are attached to these shoes.  In that moment, as I sat on my closet floor, I opted to keep them because I needed the reminder of how far I've come since they were purchased lots of years ago.  

One of my favorite Beatles hits is "In My Life."  The lyrics speak to me and it is one of those songs that I will randomly remember while I'm going about my day and sing out loud.  The lyrics I particularly love are, "There are places I remember all my life.  Though some have changed, some forever, not for better; some have gone and some remain.  All these places have their moments of lovers and friends I still can recall.  Some are dead and some are living; in my life I loved them all."  Things have changed for me; friends and loves have come and gone, but I do remember them all.  When I think about the events that surround these shoes I get teary.  Not because I'm sad that it didn't work the way I thought it was supposed to; that was impossible.  I get teary because I was STRONG in my time of weakness and I worked through it and I am a BETTER human because of it because I let God's timing take over.  

This past week I felt compelled to share my "closing remarks" from my last session of therapy with a dear friend.  It's been at least 2 years since I've read them from start to finish.  They are the kind of words that I am a-OK with staying in the past, but I haven't forgot what I wrote.  My therapist encouraged closing remarks with a series of questions that were the highlights of the goals I set to accomplish in my journey with her.  For me, it was a critical part of my healing because it forced me to really think about what we had accomplished, but what I also had in front of me as I went about my life without the security blanket of a third party helping me cope.  I've decided to share a portion of them with you today because I think this is a sentiment that many of us can relate to at some point in our life.  I can also attest to the absolute feeling of despair and mourning that I felt as I went through the process of therapy.  As you shed the shit your brain actually has to go through a process of reprogramming to adjust to life being different (even though it is better).  

"In many great movies when the film concludes the sorrowful words, "The End" stream on the screen and the viewer is done.  Done knowing what happens next and perhaps hoping for more.  However, with most stories "The End" really just means an end to THAT moment, not an end all together.  

So, here I sit celebrating that I am at the END of my time in therapy.  

It's not easy to admit you're jacked up to a complete stranger.  It actually sucks really bad and hurts like hell,  But, slowly as each layer of hate was peeled back and thrown away I got better.  For every bad thing I went through it seemed that little good things snuck their way in.  

The question has been posed to me when do you go back to loving deeply and what is the plan?  Well I don't know what the plan is.  The last 2 years were hell on earth and I had to purge some of those I loved the most out of my life because their love was toxic.  And I am here to tell you that any way you toss it up, toxic is still toxic.  

So, with a tear in my eye and a cute new outfit to boot....I say, cheers to the end because it only means a new beginning."

As soon as I copied those words in to the email for my friend I had to take a long, deep breath.  A moment to let it sink in that I HAVE improved.  I HAVE grown.  I HAVE overcome so much.  And thank God.  I thank Him every single day for The End meaning The Beginning for me.  

Not all therapists are created equal (they are still human) and I've had friends express sentiments of frustration that their attempt at therapy wasn't as successful as mine.  On the same hand, I've also had friends who have shared my sentiments that therapy was absolutely the BEST choice they've ever made because it saved their life and gave them the coping skills that they were missing and helped them move on.  If you are reading this and thinking, "I'm one of those people who HATED therapy."  Please don't give up.  Shop around.  This is your life we are talking about!  Embrace that you are in control of your happiness and healing and find your "Jenn."  She or He is out there; I promise.  

The Beatles' "In My Life" continues by saying, "And I know I'll never lose affection for people and things that went before.  I know I'll often stop and think about them.  In my life I loved you more.  In my life I loved you more." 

For me, the words "in my life I loved you more" are talking about me.  I HAD to love myself more and because I did, I took that leap and created a new beginning out of what seemed to be the end.  Dig deep, find that love for yourself, be brave, and have the courage to embrace the end being your new beginning.

The moral of the story:  The storms of life are REAL and will suck all the color out of life, but if we will have courage, faith and perseverance, the colors and sunshine WILL return.  In your life and in my life, love them more as we recall that they are the beginning, not the end.  

Until next time, my lovelies!

-R

My Reality.

Happy Friday, my lovelies!  What a week!  I finished Amy Purdy's book "On My Own Two Feet" and it was incredibly well-written and inspiring.  I couldn't put it down.  I am not a reader.  I get frustrated with not being able to see the book in my cave-dark bedroom (old lady eyes), but I have read more since I got my iPad mini because it has a back light...it's the simple joys of technology.  This book though, I purchased in "real book" form because I knew I would want to highlight and mark pages and I was right.  As I was reading the final few chapters and especially the epilogue I was moved to share some things with all of you that I haven't shared in depth up to this point.

 

The quote above was from one of the final chapters. After reading Amy's story of losing her legs, having a kidney transplant, learning to walk again, learning to dance again, opening a successful non-profit, and most of all learning to snowboard as a double amputee and later competing in the Paraolympics, I was floored when she said this quote.  I am not a snowboarder and part of the reason is I am scared as hell of those big fat rocks that are secretly hiding under the glistening powder that cause people to go flying, bust up their helmet and have traumatic brain injury.  But then I read this quote and it donned on me...uh, hello, Raylynn, you have your own set of hidden death boulders and it's called depression.  Oh snap.  I just said the D word.  Now that I've said, we must speak of it. 

 

Over the years I have had some c-razy bouts with depression.  It started when I was 19 and I was prescribed birth control for ovarian cysts.  My doctor assumed that I would be like any other woman and my body would just adjust like normal and I would be fine.  What happened was one of THE most terrifying and hopeless times of my life.  I kid you not.  I laid awake at night staring at the ceiling wondering if I was going to make it another day, praying I would fall asleep and it would be gone and then as soon as the sun came up all I wanted to do was crawl under my covers and sleep.  I would dry heave in the morning when I tried to brush my teeth and I had no appetite.  I lost 50 pounds in 6 months.  It was almost like I was pregnant.  HORRIBLE.  Depression is the biggest freaking paradox around.  When you absolutely want to cut yourself off from civilization is when you absolutely NEED to be in civilization and around people who love you.  It is the most painful awful realization because that is the ONLY way you can kick yourself out of it.  And even when you do force yourself out of bed to interact with other warm bodies, it doesn't automatically mean it's going to go away.  It takes time and effort and prayer and many times medication. 

 

One of the main things I learned from that first terrifying rounds of depression were my triggers.  It would still take me about 10 years to really get it down, but little by little I learned what set me off.  At the top of that list is sleep.  As soon as the sleep deprivation happens I can almost guarantee that I will slip into a funk.  It's like clock work and it scares me.  I am almost a habitual napper just so that it doesn't happen.  True story.  I also have learned that I need regroup time.  When a crazy day has happened or something catastrophic has happened in my life or those around me I need quiet time.  I need time in my bed (or the bath tub) in the peace and quiet to cry it out, think it through, nap it off and THEN we can move forward and have a plan. 

 

The second really bad round was when I lived in Salt Lake and made the decision to go to therapy.  I wrote about that experience in one of my first blog posts.  You can find that here.  That round I was more prepared because I knew my triggers but that didn't stop it from happening.  I was in a really terrible job and was stripping myself of some emotional baggage and it took its toll.  At this point I decided that I needed to get my ass to the gym and work it off and that's exactly what I did.  But!  Here's the deal, THAT still didn't' help on some days.  I remember a few too many days that I would be at the gym for 3 hours of grueling tough classes and I would still walk out the door crying because the stress was so high.  Thank God for those few good people who knew what was really going on and loved me through it. 

 

The third round is the gift that keeps on giving and that is seasonal blues.  I HATE winter.  I hate being cold and I hate the days being short.  I know....I should learn to ski, I should learn to snowboard, blah blah blah, but honestly, I don't want to at this point in my life.  I'm getting closer, but it's a huge expense to just pick up a snow sport.  Winters in Utah are really challenging because we experience inversion.  Dark, smoggy gross days.  It was worse when I lived in Salt Lake, but for whatever reason we've had some bad days here in the 'hood this week.  On Sunday I knew that there would not be a single minute of sunshine so I just hid in my bed for most of the day.  Then Monday rolled around and the same realization hit me as I headed out the door.  Heart sank and I tried not to cry.  To harbor the inevitable I came home every day and made dinner and crawled in bed to read my book.  So I finished in a much quicker time frame than normal.  Thanks to picking up my journaling again and escaping through a new book I am feeling pretty good today. 

 

If I can make any point with this post it is this:  you (yes you, not the person behind you) have NO idea who is struggling with mental health boulders.  The other completely SHITTY thing about depression is the lack of physical side effects.  I am an expert at "fake it to make it" but honestly I really wish that people would believe me when I tell them, "I am dying inside and I can't make it go away" and the reality that it may be that way one day and not the next.  If the sun is out, especially in the winter, I am probably having a pretty damn good day.  If it's no sunny, I'm probably not doing that great.  I am so very grateful for the people who I have been blessed with in my life who have brought consistency and support as I have rode the roller coaster of life.  I am also grateful for my trusty trick of napping it out and then facing the issue.  It helps SO much. 

 

The moral of the story:  We don't get to pick what hides under the powder of life, but we can prepare ourselves by making damn sure that our equipment works the way its supposed to and we are ready to ride the bunny hill if need be. 

 

Until next time, my lovelies!

-R

 

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