When a thud means more...

While watching tv last night, I heard this thud, actually because my living room is mostly underground, I felt the thud...I had hoped that it was just a car running over garbage or some sort of other debris but after I kept hearing vehicles making the same thud noise, I realized it was likely an animal. So with flashlight in hand I headed outside and around the corner of the house and partially up the hill...shinning the light in several directions I settled on a motionless form lying on the side of the road not quite off the main drive. I stopped in my tracks, sighed heavily and approached the figure...it was a young raccoon, clearly dead but not yet frozen to the road. I turned back around, headed to the garage, grabbed the snow shovel since it was the closest and easiest to find and headed back up the road.

Cars passed by in both directions, none really slowing or even making notice that I was standing roadside. When it was clear, I scooped up the little raccoon and walked it over to the field behind my house. Since I didn't have a shovel I could actually dig with, I placed its motionless body in a small dip in the ground and gathered many leaves to cover it with. I then said a few kind words, prayed for its family, its soul and asked that it didn't suffer. Prayed that its journey to heaven was peaceful and that it was happy running around with all the other animals I have picked up off the road and done the very same thing for.

I realize death is part of the natural order of things, but it never becomes easier. I have often told mom that when God was handing out empathy, and compassion I must have stood in those lines far too many times than the regular person. It seems to be more often than not, a hindrance rather than a positive. I have no way to control my love for those around me, animal or human...I am what I am, I am what God made me.

Maybe at some point, I can fully accept all the flaws that are innate within me and actually embrace them and leave the world a better place than when I found it.

For these, I give thanks...

It is once again Thanksgiving, my what a difference a year can make in ones life. I'm still learning the in's and out's of forgiveness, when to hold my tongue, to whom I should be loyal, and when enough is enough and being okay with saying no more. Mom had Thanksgiving dinner with family while I had to work and by the time I had finished, I was just too tired to engage in any festivities. I know mom wants me to be more active with the family, but sometimes I feel too distant. It is hard to suddenly have family around when growing up it was just mom and I. In any event, she had a great time and I got to watch football, which is always a wonderful thing. I will admit to feeling sadness knowing that people all over the world were enjoying friends and family, and I was not. I figured it was good practice for what my life would be like without my mom. So of course, my greatest amount of thanks goes to my mother, who is my best friend and greatest source of strength and inspiration. I am thankful for my job, despite its ability to suck the life from me at times. In these troubling times, I am thankful that I have a job and a super supportive supervisor who actually likes and cares about my clinical opinions. I am thankful for family that is close enough to spend time with, like I mentioned earlier, that has not always been the case...while the family I feel closest to (Parsons) are in Utah and I miss them dearly, I find the Barlow's and Ingebretsons' to be very accepting of me and I love them for that.

I am thankful for a happy, loving and spiritual home. I am thankful for the gospel of Jesus Christ, my brother and for Heavenly Father. I am thankful that I have my health (not great health but good) and that my mother is in my life daily. I am thankful for Roxy and Jozie and the love and happiness then add to the family. My thanks extends to my father as well, I am thankful for the man he has grown into and for the relationship we have now as adults. I am thankful that I survived my exgirlfriend...though it does off and on continue to grasp at my soul. I am thankful for a psychiatrist that listens to me and helps the best he can, and for the meds that help keep me alive despite the times that I feel like I would rather be dead. I am thankful that God has given me the chance to live this life, be who I am and find my way through this life with free agency even when I make the wrong choices.

I am thankful for my physical therapist who listens to my body when I don't even know what is going on with my body. She is amazing and my life is better for knowing her, even though many days I still have pain with each step I take. I am thankful that I was able to get season tickets to the Rat City Rollergirls and that my friend Jen will be going with me. I am thankful for my family both near and far, for the love and support I get from those who love me without judgement for being gay. I am thankful for a faith that reminds me that I am a child of God, when the voices of man try to tell me I am worthless or a mistake.

I know there are many more things I am thankful for, but I wanted to make sure to make note of what I could. I would be remiss if I let this Thanksgiving go by without expressing thanks for all that I have. I am very thankful for the blessings I get daily, especially the blessings I don't even know about. I am thankful for so much, and I continue to pray for those with less, that they find happiness and warmth in a world that is becoming more and more cold and unforgiving.

I pray for my clients who teach me new things each and every day, and pray for the continued patience to deal with their chronic symptoms...and give thanks that I can provide care for them.

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone I love, and to those I have yet to love. If you have a little extra left over...please give some to those without.

Camel Toe and Mr. Sanchez...

Picture this, mom and I are driving to pick up the pup from the groomers and while sitting at a light we began discussing the latest "Walmart Pics" that occasionally greet us in our inbox's. There was one that we found highly entertaining where this obese/older woman was wearing these stretch pants that she pulled all the way up to barely cover her breasts since they were hanging low anyway. Since the photo was taken from behind, I commented to mom that she must really have a serious "camel toe" going on in front...nothing but silence in the car, I turned to look at mom and said, "you don't know what a camel toe is do you?" She basically said no, so I started laughing so hard I thought I might pee myself right there at the light. I never in my life imagined that I would be sitting in a car telling my mom about what a camel toe is and what creates it. And for those that are reading this and don't know either...you are going to have to ask someone else.

Having not yet reached the groomers, I started laughing in the silence and of course mom wanted to know what I found so funny...I told her that I had to explain to my friend Elizabeth on Facebook what a "dirty Sanchez" was. Laughing yet again to myself, the only sound in the car I hear is me..."mom you've got to be kidding me, how can you live this long and not know what a dirty Sanchez is?" She sarcastically shot back at me that she didn't actually know everything despite being a mother. So within a 10 minute span I found myself AGAIN explaining a very delicate poo extraction and deposit that guys really find funny and most women find quite disgusting. Her response was "ugh that is the most disgusting thing ever, why on earth would I want to know what that is? Sick." And there I was still laughing at the fact that never in my life did I expect to have either of the above conversations with my mother...I think I would have rather sat down and had "the talk" instead of the perilous nature of the wild camel toe and the elusive dirty Sanchez. Even now, I sit here shaking my head at the funny factor that was our car ride to the groomers. I suppose I shouldn't really be surprised, even as a youngster she and I always had great communication while traveling...but perhaps singing Ann Murray may have been a better topic. Note to self.

Today I start my two day holiday...not a darn thing do I have planned. Well, sleep is very high on my priority list, but I would love to get out in some good weather and take a couple hundred photos to play with in Lightroom. I'm reading books and how to better my skills in the photography department, but am starting to feel the pull to paint. Painting is a hobby of mine that takes a great amount of "mood." I don't paint things, I paint feelings...emotions. I want to do a painting for my physical therapist and my roller derby girl...but fear rejection and the actual realization that I am no good. You wouldn't believe how many of my paintings I have thrown away...I am clearly not impressed with my work. Blah, blah, blah...my eyes are getting heavy so perhaps it is time to sleep. I love being awake at this time of the night/early morning...it is quiet and peaceful. Now if only the rain would start pouring, my night would be super fantastical.

Two I did and gave away...

Making some changes...

Over the last few days I have been, for lack of better words, purging my friends list on facebook...not because of anything specific per se, I guess I have come to the decision that I want to surround myself with positive and encouraging people. I've "flushed" about 10 friends, some I've known for months, others I've known since I was in middle school. In any event, it was my decision to make, and I did. I have reasons for why each one was "unfriended" but it all really does come down to wanting people to know me who accept me, love me, and are there for me when I am in need. I realize I am a Mental Health Professional and Social Worker and it's my job or calling to be there for others...but dammit, sometimes I need someone to care for me, sometimes I need people to be there for me, support me, encourage me to be the best me I can, faults and all.

I encourage others on an almost daily basis, those I see at work (coworkers and clients) and the kiddos I keep in contact with in Ferndale, that if you don't take care of yourself...that if you don't surround yourself with people who are good for you and support you, there will come a time when...after you have given everything you have to give...you will find yourself empty with nothing more to share. The lesson in that is to always nourish yourself before giving anything to anyone else...you give of yourself what is left over after you have filled your bucket and can sustain yourself. It benefits no one to give all of you to everyone else...at some point it will no longer be enough for those around you, and you in essence will be internally bankrupt.

I have recently found myself not heeding my own advice, much like we all do since the rules for each of us do not apply to ourselves, only others whom we interact with. I am, I think internally bankrupt...I am tired, weak from the fighting, the working, the trying to make others see that there is another way to solve a given problem, tired of pulling more weight than I can handle. It is hard for me to say no, hard to admit that I have a limit, that I cannot save everyone, that I cannot provide answers to all the questions. Lately I have been getting less than 4 hours of sleep each night for about the last week and a half...I am exhausted in every way possible. I don't know how my supervisor does it...being on call all the time as a back up, answering everyone's questions, being accountable to so many different factions in the company, county and community. I should have been more in tune with myself, when my rules and boundaries regarding clients or staff behavior become increasingly rigid, it sets me up to be frustrated and after so many times of ramming my head into the brick wall, I just end up having to wipe away the blood that flows into my eyes. Metaphorically of course.

I am feeling incompetent in my job right now, clients don't seem to be making better choices, they seem to be decompensating at an alarming rate, the medications don't seem to be as effective as they should and with the budget nightmare, emergency beds are closing left and right and we can't get help to those that need it. I don't even know if my job will be secure with the next round of cuts from Olympia and their budget slashing. Here is a novel idea, how about those politicians stop giving themselves pay raises and allocate those funds to where they are needed...wouldn't that be a shocker?

Anyway, I am hoping that my friends and family will continue to love and support me and remind me why we are all here...losing my way isn't something I enjoy. But it happens when I get burnt out...and my candle has been burning from both ends. Despite how it kills and humbles me...I need those that love me, to remind me and help me back to normal. Thank you to all who have and continue to be there for me. You are all amazing people whom I adore.

PS...if you have noticed that you are no longer listed as a friend of mine on facebook...please take note that you were one of those changes that needed to be made.

I think it's time...

For those of you who have read this blog (journal) from the start, you may remember a letter that I had written for one of my master's courses about what was like to be a gay/lesbian Mormon of the church. Several of you had suggested that I actually send it to the prophet instead of keeping my feelings/thoughts hidden. My response at that time was that I would likely be outed in the church and as a result excommunicated...which if you remember completely and utterly scares me to the core. Over the last few months, with all the bullying, suicides and attention being paid to what Elder Packer said about homosexuals...I began to think that now may be the time to share my letter with the prophet. But as I write this...I'm starting to get worried again, that sending that letter will be the end of my soul in its eternal state. Am I prepared for the aftermath that my letter could create? No. Should I send it anonymously? I don't think so...I should own my words if not for me, than the millions of gay/lesbian/trans/questioning members who have yet to find their voice. I wonder what the actual odds are that the prophet would read my letter anyway...just writing the letter makes me feel like a sinner, not worthy of being his audience. Sigh. To save any of you the search, I am re-posting the letter and asking for any support or concerns you may have regarding its content or grammar. Or let me know if I should not go through with sending it...all input is welcome, good or bad. I try to live my life with the understanding that there is likely always good and bad in something...but you need to be aware of both sides in order to make an informed decision...so I guess that's what I'm asking for...

Dear Prophet,

As Heavenly Father has appointed you to be the leader of our church, I do my best to uphold and pay great reverence to your name. Because God has chosen you to spread His gospel, I speak to you in the most respectful manner possible. I have struggled mightily all my life with some of the tenets of this religion, done all I am able to do while remembering that I am a child of God and as such have a great sense of responsibility that those outside our religion would never understand. There are those that find this responsibility of returning home with honor an easy load to bear, however, those like me or who struggle like me, find the weight almost impossible to carry. It is our cross to bear, as Latter-day Saints fulfilling God’s plan I understand.

But do you not ever fall to the floor, crying out to the Lord that the weight breaks you? Do you never feel the sorrow of your fellow brothers and sisters who have been shunned, tormented, or isolated because of their sexual orientation? Do you ever miss the ones that have taken their lives because there is no place on the face of the earth for them to seek solace once our religion has rejected them for something they had no control over…for something God Himself had created? Do you ever in silent prayer feel our pain? Do you not realize that the tears we and our loved ones shed could flood the earth?

As you are well aware, our religion regards homosexuals as sinners of the highest kind, assigning us to the same level as murderers, adulterers, and those that reject the Holy Spirit. All sins that are never to be forgiven, all reasons to be excommunicated, and completely removed from the records of the church…in effect, erasing our very existence. In fact, just writing this letter is an outright betrayal of my membership, frowned upon and never encouraged. But I feel such an overwhelming need to express my feelings to you that I must use my free agency, which is God given, to share with you the cross that I carry.

I have been a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints since I was baptized at the age of 8. I attended all the classes, seminary, and church all the while carrying a silent sense of self-hatred and disgust. Can you imagine an 8 year old hating her very existence, hating her every breath and knowing somehow that she was unfit to walk this earth? That 8-year-old girl is now 32, and those feelings have only continued to grow, become more heavy, and burdensome. During my adolescent years I just felt different though I didn’t understand why, but I kept my thoughts and feelings secret. Only God really knew what was going on with me.

When I was 24 things started making sense. I met people who described feeling just like me. But to my horror, they were homosexuals, and I had always been taught that they were sinners. Suddenly, I found myself in a very hard place because as we (gay saints) all know, being a Mormon and being gay just doesn’t mix. I tried hard to ignore my feelings and thoughts. I had boyfriends and planned to live a very heterosexual life. But I hated myself even more because I wasn’t being who I felt God made me to be. What was worse was that the religion that I based my entire existence on, that I had trusted all my life, that had made me into the woman I was…hated me. I lost my friends, my family, my religion, and my God. Instead of being the soul with a grand plan and design that God Himself had set in motion, I was now a wasted shell, a body just taking up space. A tormented soul with nowhere to turn and no one to trust. Before becoming aware of who and what I was, I at least had God to turn to believing that He loved me. But after being told that I was unnatural and that God hated me, I was suddenly alone. The people and religion that I clung to for support and guidance took my Heavenly Father from me, stripped me of my salvation and eternal life.

I mention all this because I’m angry that even my childhood wasn’t sacred. It is true that I may not be living the life that God had created for me. But it’s not because I’m gay. It’s because my soul was never cherished, fed, valued, or encouraged to grow. My religion’s rejection created a lost, tortured, and despised soul that will never be what it could have been. I may never be the glorious woman that God created me to be, and my soul is just one of the thousands of souls that have been laid to waste because someone deems themselves more worthy of His love then mine. As God’s messenger, I hold you responsible for those of us who have been murdered by our own hands or the hands of others because of our homosexuality. God is a God of love, acceptance, and mercy. He could never hate us just because of who we are and who He created us to be. Instead of teaching His love, you have taught us to hate, discriminate, and judge. All things God and Christ wanted us not to do. Why can I not be loved, cared for, respected, freed from torment, and cherished because I’m gay? Why does that make it impossible for me to return home with honor? Why does that make my heterosexual peers better and more worthy than me? Why must my soul be laid to waste?

I realize it is impossible for you to understand the pain I carry. I also understand that you are just a man that is doing what you feel God wants you to do. We are all just doing the best we can, and that’s really all God has ever asked of us. But at some point even you, high atop your perch as Prophet, must be made aware of the tortured, and suffering souls that need your acceptance in order to feel God’s love. We need to hear it from you because you are God’s voice. There are so many of us that to ignore our plight would be a great tragedy. I am your sister through Christ and as such I pray you hear my voice and the beat of my heart that cries out for the love of my religion. I pray that I find my way through this life, learn to embrace my strengths, and help others like me do the same. Just maybe that is my calling, to share the light that I know is somewhere inside me with others who can’t see through their pain and suffering. I realize through your eyes I will always be a sinner and will never hope to attain God’s full glory, but if I can help save just one soul from the pain of losing God’s love and acceptance, then maybe I wasn’t such a waste of space. I also hope that when you reach heaven you will be surprised to find who is and who isn’t there. God’s love and mercy are far more reaching than I believe even you have the ability to understand.

With Love,

Sister Debra Carlsen

I'm Just Sayin'...

Whether gay, straight, bi, questioning, or lesbian...man or woman...christian, wiccan, mormon, jew or atheist...we all have the same basic desires and goals. Yes, there are minor alterations on the details and specifics...but overall we are all the same in many ways:

-We all want to be loved.

-We all want to be accepted for who and what we are.

-We all want to be happy.

-We all want to belong.

-We all want to be remembered.

-We all bleed.

-We all cry.

-We all feel pain and joy.

We are all blessed when any of the above are attained and actively seek to make those goals become a reality...

Likewise, there are those of us that fear any and all of the above because it means that who we are...is okay. Acceptance in the face of a society or religion that tells you no...tells you that because of who or what you are, you are not worthy of any of those things.

There are times that blessings and love bring confusion and emotional torture because others see something that you cannot. Others have accepted you for you, when the very thought leaves you confounded and searching for more reasons to prove them all wrong...

Make you act as if you know what that "higher power" believes in...what that "higher power" deems lovable and precious...which in turn then begs the question...who died and made you God? Sometimes the negative and rejection ends up being easier to hang on to because it is something you can wrap your head around. Something I can wrap my head around.

As a pessimist by nature, I fully acknowledge that my view point is, at best damaged. Yet it is all I can hold tight to all the while being the very thing I want to get rid of in the hopes of achieving the commonalities I listed earlier. We are indeed our own worst critic and enemy...we all hold ourselves to a higher expectation than others do which makes it incredibly easy to falter. However logical our thoughts may be at any given time, there will always be an extra "spin" on what we believe in...what we show the world...what we expect from ourselves. We forgive others more easily than we do ourselves. This is concerning to me yet I am just as guilty as the woman sitting next to me on the bus, the neighbor down the street or my bishop standing at the pulpit on any given Sunday.

So for all the differences that we all cling to in the hopes of proving our individuality from those around us...we are much the same. In fact, we have more in common with each other than we can even understand. Perhaps one day we/I will forgive myself just as I forgive others and love myself like I love others...and focus more on what binds us together as a species instead of what makes us different. Maybe someday, we can all do that. Just think how far society could go and the great achievements we could attain if we were to just accept each other for all our strengths AND all our weaknesses. Instead of spending so much time telling each other we don't belong, we are wrong, we are an illness or addiction, we are hated by God, we are abnormal...we could all be so much more than we are now.

I'm just sayin'.