The thickness of water

April 6, 2017 / Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

Last week I ran into my aunt at the gym..I can almost hear you whisper to yourself…who cares?…Maybe if I told you that my aunt and uncle are going through a nasty divorce after being married over 30 years…my uncle is blood, my aunt is the water…that is the thick and thin of it..

When I saw my aunt at the gym, I gave her a big hug…I am the person that shies away from hugs, not the person that seeks out people in sweaty gym clothes to hug.

I didn’t even take her side…she wanted to leave…he wanted her to stay.

I am not sure why at the moment I hugged her after all of the hurt she caused.

I miss the times I visited them when I was a child…Nostalgia for the moments past…And, yes, I miss her.

When I was a child, there weren’t many happy moments at home. But there were many happy moments at my aunt and uncle’s home.

My mom would take my brothers and I to their house on a hot summer night and we would swim until dark. Afterwards, we would stay up late watching scary movies like Poltergeist.

I love swimming and scary movies. It reminds me of the happiest days of my childhood.

Sometimes I wonder if we like certain things just because they remind us of a good feeling…and perhaps the opposite could be true too…dislike for things that are reminders of bad times..

Then I wonder…what if certain periods of our life are so difficult that even good ‘things’ remind us of bad times…Can that trigger feelings of sadness?

Can we like things that we wouldn’t otherwise like just because of memories of doing those things with loved ones, like fishing for example…Or do we simply like what we like irregardless of relationships, memories, and emotions…

Here I go off on a thinking tangent again…

Maybe one of the reasons I saw my aunt at the gym was because of my love of swimming. We joined the gym again so I could practice swimming for the half Iron, something I probably won’t have even thought of trying if I was afraid of water.

Sometimes I love being on water more than land.

I certainly did not learn that from my parents..

My mother doesn’t swim and is afraid of water.

The only time my dad went swimming he terrorized me by pulling me under, throwing weeds or death stuff at me, or dragging me out into the weeds and forcing me to stand there even though I was afraid.

One of my most traumatic childhood memories is of being in charge of watching my younger brothers in the water when I was 6. I stood speechless in terror unable to call for help while my youngest brother struggled for air, choked on water, and almost drowned…My mom left me in charge for only a few minutes…Minutes that could’ve lasted forever…

I should be terrified of water.

Instead I love the feel of water around me. I love the bubbles that flow through my fingers. For some reason, I associate water with happiness instead of fear..

I have to wonder if my love for swimming sprouted from those hot summer nights at my aunt and uncle’s years ago.

It is sad to see their marriage come to an end. I have always known them to be together..But maybe, just maybe, there will be more stolen sweaty hugs at the gym. For a few moments, it can take me back to those warm (sweaty) happy summer nights when they were still together…back to some of the happiest days of my childhood.

Mile 20 of the show

April 4, 2017 / Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

The last time we talked, I was feeling apprehension about the opening weekend of the musical. It wasn’t about stage fright or worrying about whether or not I knew my songs or lines. It seemed to go a lot deeper than that.

The last show that I was in was back in 2011. I was in my mid-30’s and I had some really awesome parts. I built up a rather large fan base. I wore some really beautiful dresses.

As luck would have it, I was the oldest female that auditioned for this show. The part that I wanted was given to a 17 year old. Feeling old bites, especially after being given the old lady parts. In my mind but not in the mirror, I am still young and beautiful. Don’t they see me as I do?

I have been teased endlessly for my costumes. At first I was angry. One of the costumes I wear was owned by a woman before she had bariatric surgery. I was not kidding when I said that I had to wrap the belt around me twice. Over the weekend, I learned to laugh at myself too. Although it is one of my least favorite shows, the cast and director have been phenomenal.

Over the weekend, I had a few moments for self-examination. Paul and I have the same problem, we tend to be the type that takes on too much. Then we get overwhelmed with the choices that we make. I realized that if I ever train for a full Ironman, there are going to be a lot of things that I am going to have to give up or say no to.

Being in a show is a tremendous time commitment. Many people do not know what it is like until they have done it. Not only are there many hours spent on stage at the theater, there are many hours spent at home memorizing lines and songs. Time that cuts into other time commitments.

Stepping back into community theater after a long hiatus hasn’t been particularly easy. I lost all of my fan base. I am not remembered anymore. The director and most of the cast have never seen me on stage before. The ‘good jobs’ people threw at me as they were passing by on their way out the door don’t mean as much…you should’ve seen me in my hay day…It’s almost like qualifying for the Boston marathon…taking a break from the running scene for years…then being complimented on running a 5k.

This show has forced me to face that I am not young anymore…my looks are fading. I know this sounds incredibly shallow. But it has been difficult for me. To be honest with you, most of the positive attention I received as a child had to do with my looks. It met a lot of emotional needs for attention that went unfulfilled at home. I am learning to live with it like a genius slipping into dementia.

Maybe that is why I slowly switched from beauty to brawn over the past couple of years. It is something I feel I have more control over. It is something that I earned versus a genetic lucky roll of the dice. I feel great. I am starting to see a big separation between those who are active and those who are not. There are people my age who are out of breath climbing the stairs. I get a little winded at about mile 18 in a marathon.

People say that I am lucky. But this has nothing to do with luck. I earned it.

I don’t expect to live forever or even longer than everyone else my age. I probably won’t be running marathons at 80. But I do expect to live a full and active life until my last days. I expect to have enough endurance to make memories with my grandchildren someday.

Will I ever do another show again?? Yes, perhaps I will if the timing and part is right for me. But if you ever ask me if I plan to run another marathon at mile 20, the answer will always be no.

Parenting from my horse and buggy

February 23, 2017 / Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

A few weeks ago, I received a text from another parent regarding my son.

Surprisingly, it was not a late Friday night knock on the door.

She told me that my son was driving 15 mph over the speed limit on the highway with her son in the car. She knew this from an app and suggested that I get the app too.

I decided not to.

When I confronted my son about his driving, he became upset.

His friend got a ride with him to the band concert because his parents didn’t want to attend. No one bothered to show up on his behalf. But they complained about my son’s driving.

My son said that if they have a problem with the way he drives, then maybe they should take their son and be involved in his life.

I don’t want my son to speed on the highway, but I have to agree with him. What good is constant nagging without being an involved parent??

I already have the app that tracks my children. I know where they are at all times.

I have the app that tracks their grades. I know about every missing assignment, every time they were a few minutes late to class, and every bad grade.

Every night could be a nag fest.

Did you turn in that assignment yet??

How is it going to make them responsible for their own lives if they constantly have mom and dad telling them what they need to do?? How can they think for themselves if we already have a solution for every problem??

Sometimes I think parenting was a lot easier when parents didn’t know so much.

I remember bringing my report cards home and the screaming and threatening only lasted a day or two. Sometimes I was even surprised by my grades.

I remember going to the library (where people smoked cigarettes) if I needed answers to questions. Shocking, I know. This comment should almost give my blog an R rating. The librarians had all the answers or knew where to find them, kind of like Siri.

I remember my parents saying that I had it made in my day because a bus picked us up for school. They had to walk uphill both ways to a one room schoolhouse that didn’t have indoor plumbing.

Every generation seems to think that the next generation has it so much easier. But is it really true with this generation?

When I was a kid, I spent my summers riding my bike around town from morning to night. Sometimes the chain fell off or I got a flat tire. Sometimes there was a storm.

I didn’t have a phone to call someone to pick me up. I had to solve my own problems.

I feel like some of that is missing in today’s world.

I wonder when we convinced ourselves that it wasn’t safe for our kids to ride their bikes around all day.

Parents worry about sexual predators, but somehow we convince ourselves that having our kids inside on the internet is safer than riding a bike around town.

To think we didn’t even wear helmets. That would be considered bad parenting today.

Now my kids can’t live without their phones. My daughter called me from her friend’s phone this morning saying that she forgot her phone at home and asked if I could bring it to school for her. I said ‘no’. I told her that I lived my first 18 years without a phone. I’m certain that she could survive for one day.

The kids of today have phone separation anxiety. They are bored or antsy when they have to be without the internet or their phones for more than a few minutes. They run up huge amounts of data on long car rides. They don’t know how to get anywhere because they never look out the window, yet they are lost without their phones.

What kind of life is that?

I think that my kids are wasting their young years watching everyone else live online. But yet they need to stay up to date on technology if they want to have a good career. We’re damned if we do. We’re damned if we don’t. We struggle with them and ourselves over limits.

We don’t know what to do. We can’t relate. We never had this. More often then not, we need our kids help to make technology work. It can be very frustrating.

There is such a huge technology gap between what I know and what my kids know. I would need them to set up the parental controls. Why bother? They are always 10 steps ahead of me. How can I adequately monitor them?

It will be interesting to see how the next generation of parents respond to these issues. I think it will be much easier for them since there won’t be as much of a technology gap between the generations.

Forget helicopter parenting! I feel like I am parenting from my horse and buggy. Meanwhile, my kids are driving the fast snazzy automobile of technology. I can never keep up.

For the first time in history, I think that our children are teaching us more than they are learning from us. This scares me..

Good grief!

February 2, 2017 / Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

The night ended with a crescendo of discord..

The morning came too soon…

I awoke at 3:30 AM unable to fall back to sleep for an hour. When I did sleep, I had another nightmare and woke up crying right before my alarm went off. For several weeks now I’ve slipped into a cycle of insomnia and nightmares, only sleeping good maybe once a week.

It doesn’t seem like my body is able to handle stress. I spent most of my morning in the bathroom with a major acid reflux flare up. I haven’t been able to eat much today. Then I had to train our new employee this morning and somehow manage to look like I didn’t wake up crying, that I actually slept, and that I spent the morning not almost throwing up my meager breakfast.

We got the news last night that my husband’s mother Martha is down to 90 lbs. She told her husband Darryl that she would like to die at home. It’s strange when someone is dying. I find myself remembering the old times together. Remember when….? I want to write a eulogy for her and go through all of the old pictures this weekend.

While all of this has been happening with Paul’s mom, we have had to deal with teenager issues. My daughter Arabella has been very angry lately. We have not been getting along at all. I can’t even count how many times she told me she hated me yesterday. She said a few things a lot worse than that too.

Then there was an argument with my son last night. His girlfriend made it to state and he wants to watch her perform this weekend. I was under the assumption that he was going there with her parents. Apparently, I was wrong.

I found out that Alex was planning on driving the 8 hour round trip with two of his friends. First of all, this violates his probationary license. Also, friend one was the guy that decided it would be smart to bang his head against the table 5 times when the clock struck midnight on New Year’s. Who knows if he ended up with a concussion. He did end up with a bruised and bloody forehead.

The other friend is the guy whose mom came over and yelled at us because my son wasn’t giving him all of the rides she thought he deserved. He was the kid that rode in the trunk of the car.

Then a week ago, Arabella forgot her laptop at home on a test day. I had my son drop it off at her school which meant that he and this friend he drives would be late for school. He wanted me to give them an excuse because if his friend was late or missed school one more time then his parents would be fined for truancy. My son said that his parents would be knocking at our door expecting us to pay for this. Which I wouldn’t doubt, but wouldn’t do.

These are the friends he wants to take on an 8 hour road trip and share a hotel room with unsupervised! We said absolutely NOT! Not at the age of 16. We don’t even let him stay home alone yet. This created an argument after 10 last night..

These are just some of the things we are dealing with as we have to make very difficult decisions. Decisions like….when we get the call that the end is near, do we take the kids along?? Paul and I have never seen anyone die before.

I feel like a complete failure filling the role of supportive wife.

Before I end with doom and gloom and just another negative social media post among many out there…This time under intense stress, Paul and I have been working together. Paul is a total optimist, but through this grieving process he has sunk down lower than I have ever seen him go. I have been reaching down into the darkness to bring him up.

Even if I am a basket case for today, he knows that there will always be supper on the table (even if the kids don’t like it). His laundry will be done. Some comfort can be found in order and routine, however small. And he said that he appreciates that he can trust me completely to not run the business he worked so hard to build into the ground if he needs to take time off.

I am thankful to have found such a wonderful man. Now we need to continue to trust that God will bring us through this together…

Sink, swim, or walk on water??

January 27, 2017 / Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

It has been a few days since we last spoke.

I haven’t lost interest in you. It just seems harder to find the time…

I did get some sleep since we last spoke. That just makes life better.

I really don’t mind the stresses of everyday life. I don’t, really! I would rather be busy than bored. I have no tolerance for boredom. I can’t handle it. But I also like routine and structure. Go figure?

But sometimes the pendulum swings too far to the side of busyness. Those are the times that I find myself at the fast end of a Tetris game. Things happen so fast that I can’t keep up and none of the pieces fit together. I have been living in this mode for the last couple of weeks now. Then add a couple of sleepless nights with nightmares and I am a completely miserable person to be around.

I have been getting a lot of comments this week from close friends and family. Are you okay?? You don’t seem like yourself lately.. Please try not to worry so much. Are you just tired or are you feeling depressed?? What’s wrong??

I don’t want to be so stressed out anymore. Everyone goes through rough patches in life. I want to be the person that has enough faith to walk on water. Not the person that is flailing around, drowning, barely able to keep my head above water…dragging down those around that notice and are trying to help me.

But through this I have found that I have a lot of people that care about me. Although their concern worries me, maybe I do need to take better care of myself.

I want to be me again.

I will be okay!

I grew up living most of my childhood in fight or flight mode. It was one big adrenaline rush. But the thing is that I can’t seem to turn it off. I don’t want to turn it off. I don’t know how to live any other way. I am like the dog that has been beat too many times, but prefers the harsh owner because that is what I know. It is hard to explain. It is also hard to find that same feeling in healthy ways. So I run marathons and hang out with exciting people.

Tonight I will be going out with my BFF Cindy for beers and burgers. Then tomorrow night the old gang will be getting back together for the first time in years for a night of dinner, games, cocktails, and dancing.

Wow, I will be going out two nights in a row! (It’s not like I have been sleeping all that great on my own after a night at home anyway!) Lol..

I will be hanging out with some very beautiful women that also have a great thirst for adventure which usually equates to some pretty interesting stories…

A simple gift

December 10, 2016 / Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

Most of the time it is the trials in life that shape and mold us into people with character and strength. It makes us better people.

But if I wholeheartedly believe what I just said…than why do I want the opposite for my children?

Paul and I are both (gulp) intellectuals. We try to provide an environment that stimulates learning and promotes education. We read the kids a lot of books when they were young. Paul and I both love to read. Paul spent half of our children’s childhood working on his Master’s degree. He spends hours researching topics of interest, such as, making a geometrical chart with the wind trajectory and sailing co-ordinates to try to improve his race to learning how to rewire his boat. They always see me writing.

We thought that our children would embrace learning, and most of them do. That is why we had such a hard time the last several years when our son kept bringing home failing grades. We knew that he was smart.

We weren’t expecting him to be just like his dad…

Paul grew up in a completely different environment. His mother, Martha, dropped out of high school before she got pregnant with him as a teenager. She tried over the years to get her GED, but never could pass the test. When she was in her 50’s, she went back to school to get her CNA certificate. Paul, the kids, and I watched her walk down the aisle in her cap and gown to receive her diploma. She was so ecstatic. It was the first degree that she earned in her life. Her excitement saddened me.

When Paul was in 4th grade, he moved from Chicago to a small rural town in Wisconsin. He moved up with his mom and grandma. Due to a brief marriage, Martha had a different last name than Paul. Paul shared the last name of his grandma. This was a very unusual situation back in the 70’s in that area. The kids picked on him because he had no dad. He had a mother with a different last name and still no dad. Everyone thought that Paul was stupid because his mother was intellectually slow. Paul thought that he was stupid too.

He didn’t have a parent that valued education. On parents day at school, he sat alone. His mom couldn’t take time off of work because she was a single parent and had bills to pay. She did what she had to do. He didn’t have someone in the house that could help him with homework. He didn’t have a dad to play catch with.

He failed a high school class and had to take remedial summer school. He ended up going to college because a friend was going and he thought it would be fun. He went to college, did too much partying, and still got bad grades. It caught up to him eventually.

Paul ended up getting kicked out of college for a semester. He went back to his small town and got a factory job alongside his mother. He noticed how poorly his mother was treated there. He couldn’t see himself living that way for the rest of his life. The next semester he went back to school and decided that he wanted to work hard to get good grades. He turned his life around. He even applied for law school, but got rejected.

Sometimes Paul feels like he could’ve been so much more..

He wanted a better life for our children. He gave them something that he never had, although it seems so simple, so basic..

Now it is up to them what they will do with this gift.

Not a special Olympics type of story

December 1, 2016 / Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

For many the holiday season triggers memories of joy and happiness. For me, this time of year triggers some sort of post traumatic stress response. I realize that now. Wow, and it only took me 19 years to figure it out after I earned a degree in psychology.

I feel like I am back to normal now, whatever that is..

For the first time in my life, I was able to write down exactly how I felt while I was going through it. It wasn’t easy to relate. I think I have some sort of post traumatic stress response to certain triggers. It sounds absolutely crazy, I know. Most of the time triggers elicit a response of depression for a day or two at most.

I think this happens more often than I realize, but not quite as severe.

After I left my childhood home, I fell into a deep depression that lasted for several years. I also picked up anger and anxiety to put in my baggage along the way.

I don’t blame anyone for what happened.

I remember starting to feel angry last week at Thanksgiving when my mom was giving me a hard time about taking Prilosec for my acid reflux. She really wants me to get allergy testing and offered to pay for it. I have been reluctant. It’s not that I disagree, it triggered memories of growing up.

Matt was supposedly allergic to everything. We couldn’t even have cars parked in the garage because of exhaust fumes. We couldn’t have curtains because of the formaldehyde. For awhile we weren’t allowed to use toothpaste.

Personally, I think that my mother’s response was too extreme. She would have extreme anxiety if Matt was exposed to any allergens. She would scream at my dad if he came in the house smelling like exhaust fumes. She called the nearby farmers and screamed at them if they sprayed their fields without calling her first. She even called the county and yelled at them when they came by spraying the ditches.

My mom seemed to think that controlling Matt’s environment would stop him from being violently autistic. But nothing seemed to stop his violence towards himself and others, namely me.

I think that my mother has and always had good intentions. She is worried that I will die from kidney failure, a supposed side effect from the Prilosec. I will have to tell her that my daughter Angel has already offered me her kidney when mine fails.

My mom was always there for me when I was a kid. She was the one who helped me pick up the pieces of my broken mind after Matt was violent. She also helped my brother Mark out when he experienced a similar response to mine. The task she was given was not easy to do.

I don’t blame my dad, despite his cruelty. He was as much of a victim as the rest of us.

I don’t even blame Matt. If you met Matt today, you wouldn’t believe a word I have told you. He is now docile. By some miracle, he grew out of his violence.

The last time that he hurt someone was 14 years ago. He attacked Angel on her 4th birthday. After he attacked Angel, it was a time of great emotional turmoil for me. I cut Matt out of my life completely for a few years. He wasn’t allowed around my children.

His psychiatrist threatened to have him committed to a place for the violently mentally ill. It was one thing when a child was hurting other children, but it was entirely different when a grown man was attacking children. In response to this, Matt was home bound once again and kept out of public where he could hurt someone and get committed.

I was already feeling edgy about my mom pushing the allergy testing on Thursday. Then my visit with my dying mother-in-law on Saturday made me very anxious. Then the sadness over Angel going back to college and the trigger of the Christmas tree was enough to set me off into this deep dark spiral downward.

I feel horrible about talking to you about this. I wish I had a great special Olympics type special needs sibling story to tell you. I feel tremendous guilt that I don’t.

I haven’t met anyone else who has had a similar experience to mine. If you are out there somewhere, I want to tell you that there is hope. This was the only thing that kept me alive as a teenager and young adult. I prayed fervently and had hope that someday there would be a better life for me where I could experience joy.

I firmly believe that you cannot fully experience joy without experiencing sorrow. I have found that joy in abundance. I experience life at a much deeper level than I think I would have if my life was easy breezy. No small talk here, just the blatant honest truth. There is value in being able to honestly share the sorrow that I experienced this week. I need to accept what I have been through and the emotions that accompany it.

There is hope! If opening myself up and allowing myself to be vulnerable helps just one person hold on for another day, it would be worth it. You are not alone! There is hope…

Trust that tomorrow will be a better day.

This, whatever it is..

November 30, 2016 / Outrunning my demons / 5 Comments

Last night after writing, I felt restless.

I had an inability to focus and no desire to do so.

I left home.

I walked out the door and drove off without telling anyone I was going.

I drove aimlessly for an hour. I am drawn to places where I once was happy, but are lost to me now. I drive to the house I used to live in when we were first married, to my grandma’s house, or to the sailing club devoid of boats for the winter. Last night I drove by Lisa’s old house. I glanced as I passed and saw children playing inside. I drove along our old running route. Then I drove aimlessly after that.

I had a conversation with God while I drove. Why weren’t you there for us back then God? Why weren’t you there for me? Where are you now? But I didn’t receive an answer. I entertained the thought that he was never there. Maybe there is no God. I don’t know if I believe or trust anymore. My faith is held intact by a small string.

Paul was worried when I got back home. He forced me to talk to him when I would rather stare off into space, be alone, or attack him so he would stay away. I felt flooded with despair. It threatened to drown me. What is my purpose? Why am I even here?

The sadness was relentless, but I fell into an exhausted sleep only to awake hours later from a horrifying nightmare. I dreamed that I went back in time. There was a horrific lightening storm like one I never saw before. The lightening burned holes in the ground and tried to pull me into it. I had no way to protect anyone. My kids were in it while they were younger, I found my little brothers, and relatives that are long gone now. I couldn’t protect anyone and had trouble finding them.

I awoke in absolute terror. I wrapped myself tightly in my blankets to try to feel safe. But the feelings of terror surrounded me for another half an hour. I got up for awhile, unable to sleep. Then I fell back into a restless sleep for the rest of the night.

I awoke feeling nervous and afraid, like an intruder was in the house. I felt jumpy. I know the feelings weren’t true. I was alone, and no one was there..

The memories keep rushing back. Images ricochet through my mind..Sounds echo through my head… I hear the laughter of children on the playground… I hear them mocking Matt.. I watch as Matt kicks the girl at the roller rink.. I hear her screams and her dad’s angry yell.. I walk through the playground with Matt and his therapist trying to see if the laughter of the children will trigger a meltdown to try to help him somehow stop..I hear the cats cry..I hear a music box and Aunt Grace talking..I hear the laughter of Uncle Harold..

The images and sounds haunt my mind. Whispers of memory. Distorted, out of focus, yet somehow real, remembered faintly.

Then I realized that I was back home. I am feeling the way that I felt back then. The anger, the depression, the fear, the insomnia, the nightmares..

Paul said that maybe I should take some time off to rest. But I am going to work…I am following my regular exercise routine…and I am grasping onto my little string of faith..

If I let go, I will surely drown…

Lost things/prohibited items

November 29, 2016 / Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

It has been two days since Angel has gone away.

I no longer have anger, that has dissipated into a sadness of sorts..an emptiness..

I decided to make a list of all of the things taken away. Most were directly related to Matt, some indirectly.. I thought that maybe then you would understand why I feel this way.. No one understands.. Maybe my younger brothers.. But these things are too painful to talk about.

The items on this list are things that were taken away, some things forever and some just for a little while.

Things taken away/prohibited items:

Christmas trees
Candles (only allowed on birthday cakes)
Perfume
Hair spray
Nail polish
Anything scented, such as shampoo or lotion.
Tooth paste, for awhile we were only allowed to brush our teeth by dipping our brush into peroxide then baking soda.
House pets
House plants
Cleaning products
Auto exhaust, the cars had to be parked at the bottom of the driveway so the fumes would not come into the house. All clothes items with exhaust fumes had to be removed before entering. All windows needed to be closed if the wind was blowing exhaust fumes towards the house from the road. Following semis was prohibited on the highway.
We got rid of our wood furnace because it was too toxic
Curtains; curtains contain formaldehyde. The curtains were removed and replaced by old blankets.
My dolls, they were taken away for a semester in grade school because I couldn’t focus and got bad grades.
Dairy products, Matt’s food was separated from ours and we were not allowed to eat his. We generally didn’t have snacks, sweets, or foods with artificial colors (anything unhealthy) in the house.
Napkins, they make Matt gag.
Lawn mowers, for a time we had to use a non-gas push mower because of exhaust fumes.
School, we were home schooled for 3 years when Matt’s behavior was too violent to attend school. He had a teacher come to our house.
All childhood friendships.
The ability to relax and feel safe.
Time and attention.
Getting my medical needs met. Matt’s needs were more urgent and important. He required hospital stays, doctor trips to specialists across and out of our home state, which brought on a lot of medical expenses.
Family vacations, technically I never lost this because we never had this.
The use of pesticides of any kind. We were not allowed to wear bug spray. The use of wasp spray was strongly discouraged. The local farmers were told to call us an hour before spraying their fields. After they called, we had an hour to pack our bags and head up north or to grandmas to hide out for a couple of days. If they didn’t call before spraying, we would lock down our house for 2 days or until it rained. Rain purified the air from chemicals.
Going out to eat as a family, I don’t remember this ever happening.
Having both parents attend events because someone had to stay behind and care for Matt.
The freedom to live like a regular teen. I spent my time as a caregiver. I even gave my brother showers.
Permanent markers, glue, stains, and paint.
Bleach, fabric softener, and dryer sheets. I had to scrub my brothers dirty socks in vinegar or lye.
Anything new, new items had to gas out their fumes before being allowed in the house. We also had to run an air purifier and sometimes Matt needed to wear a charcoal mask if there were still toxins in the air.
Newspapers, they had to gas out before coming into the house.
Pipes, my dad used to smoke a pipe in the 70’s every once in awhile. That was no longer allowed.
Teflon coated pots and pans.
Strong emotions, that set Matt off.
The ironing of clothes.
Toys or plastics with toxic scents.
Sometimes we would leave to go somewhere, then have to turn around and come back home because Matt would have a meltdown.
I had to drop out of a play I was in because Matt was in the hospital.
Having my boomboxes destroyed.

Then there were other things…things not easily categorized. Sometimes Matt would run away from home. He would run off into the woods and we couldn’t find him. He would hurt himself and hurt us. We have bled and were bruised. He turned on the water faucets and flooded the house. He kept my brothers up at night and sometimes slept all day. He would have uncontrollable fits of rage.

People called Matt demon possessed..

That is why I hated my life. I wanted to be normal, boring even..

Is there anyone out there who understands?? Anyone at all? I didn’t think so. I feel so all alone.

There are just some demons that can’t be outrun.

I can never look back and consider anything about my childhood normal. Looking back is painful. I avoid telling people about this part of my life..

Why am I telling you?

I want someone to understand my tears.

But more than anything, I would love to erase it all and pretend none of this ever happened.

A blue Christmas…

November 28, 2016November 28, 2016 / Outrunning my demons / Leave a comment

Last night I decorated my new real blue Christmas tree…alone.

I felt such a loss after Angel left to go back to college. Year after year, we decorated the Christmas tree together. I really missed having her here this year. I didn’t tell her that though. There are so many kids dropping out to be closer to home. We both know she is right where she needs to be.

My other two children were not interested in decorating the tree with me. Just this last weekend Arabella said that she didn’t think her teenage self would like me very much. Bayley was over and Alex wanted to spend time with her. The last thing I wanted was to force the kids to spend time with me. I want them to want to.

I wanted for just a second to put them into my world growing up. I wanted them to realize how important this tradition is to me. But I protect them from all of that.

The holidays sometimes does crazy things to my head.

The next thing I know, I am back home. Mom and I are baking cookies for Santa. There is a tree with glimmering lights. There were Cabbage Patch dolls hidden in wrapping paper under the tree.

Then just like that, everything I had was gone.

Mom said that Matt couldn’t tolerate Christmas trees, real or fake. Everything stopped. We no longer had Christmas trees in the house. We no longer put out cookies for Santa. We no longer decorated with lights or candles. That was no longer allowed. What used to be magical and fun turned cold and desolate. It became a season of despair for me.

Thankfully, my grandma always had us over on Christmas Day. I never cared that her trees were less than perfect. She always cut her own tree from her backyard. I was happy there. Except for the year that my mom told her that she could no longer have a tree because Matt was allergic. My grandma decorated the wall with bows that year. I was so angry.

Last night I put my head in my hands and cried. A part of me will forever be broken.

I wanted my kids to understand what having a tree means to me because I never had it. I did have it at one time, but it was taken away. I wonder if my younger brothers even remember a time when we had a Christmas tree in the house. Perhaps I will ask them. Maybe it is better if they don’t remember.

Last night I felt so much anger and despair. If my mom were to call, I wouldn’t answer the phone. It is not fair to her to be angry about something that happened 30 years ago. It’s not her fault that Matt is autistic. The whole situation was unfair to all involved.

I want to help other special needs families learn from my experiences, but I feel so much rage. It hurts to reach out. My mind goes absolutely haywire this time of year with anger, depression, and anxiety. I can’t seem to control it. I can’t seem to escape the memories. So many years have past now, but it still hurts when I pick at the scars.

Why did you take everything away from me? Did you think that taking our Christmas traditions away from us would make Matt any less autistic? It was not like he broke out in hives and had trouble breathing. I needed this to help get through the dark days. I needed some light. But my needs got ignored. The funny thing is, Matt wasn’t any more or less violent without the tree. It didn’t matter either way to him, but it did to the rest of us

I’m sorry, I didn’t intend for my post to be this way. I was going to post a picture of my lovely blue tree. This post was going to be light and fluffy like the snow we don’t have on the ground outside. I didn’t think that I would respond this way. This time I didn’t brush the feelings away. I let myself grieve. Sometimes I wish my kids would understand that the things they take for granted as normal were never normal for me.

I am not usually an emotional person. I am usually cool, calm, and detached from feelings. I don’t want to live in that cold emotionless void anymore. I want to feel now even if it hurts. I am stronger now, strong enough to handle this.

Thanks for listening to me. It really helps me feel better.