Just Your Best

#MotivationMonday with Create Change

*The intent: find a phrase in each #MotivationMonday Instagram video and share some unsolicited thoughts.*

This week Nathan and Chyler shared thoughts on Memorial Day, fighting stigma’s and not getting bogged down in the statistical information, “our focus is on people, because if you focus on numbers, people get left behind.” I thought that would be the quote I would decide to make commentary on, but for whatever reason, I found myself staring at the screen and watching the blinking curser for almost a half an hour with nothing being said. At one point it did speak to me, it’s a powerful statement…and so very true. Yet, try as I might nothing came to me. So I sat with myself, replayed the Instagram video and tried again. So here’s take two on  my thoughts.

Chyler was answering questions and yet again, for the life of me I can’t recall the context in which she made this statement, “we can only do our best in any given moment.” So plainly said, so clear in her intent, simple yet complicated. This is usually the part where I talk about how easy it is to put thoughts to paper, but I can’t say that this time even though I feel very well equipped to talk on the subject. I’m going to have to get personal for this entry, a little more than I would prefer but maybe that’s the point. My life is pretty average, started the same way that everyone else’s did. Country girl, no siblings, super supportive mom and absent father…who when he wasn’t absent taught me early to hate myself. He was physically and emotionally abusive to the point that I would get physically sick when I knew he would be home. I’m going to fast forward a bit, to be more specific my early 20’s. I was away at college, I was long since used to the nightmares of my memories of him, and firmly entrenched in negative coping skills and anxiety…but that’s a story for another time.

I hated my father, not just for what he had done to me, but I hated him for cheating on my mother, treating her horribly and for not wanting me…before birth or after. I spent all my early life hating him or fearing him and I remember praying to God to give me the ability to forgive him. At some point I decided to sit down with him and confront him about the damage he had inflicted on me, so I sat across the living room from him and told him everything I thought. I gave example after example of what he had done. I sat there as an adult, broken and battered and sobbing…only to hear him say “I don’t recall ever doing those things. You’re mistaken. I never did those things.”

I was crushed. Shattered. My heart ripped bare, literally feeling as though it was hanging from my chest like a gaping open wound.

All I wanted from him was acknowledgment and to say he was sorry. But after all was said and done, and some more time passed I realized that the only person hurting from my hatred and hurt in this relationship, was me. I prayed for months for the ability to forgive him, not because he deserved it, but so I could stop hurting. I woke up one morning and the hate was gone, replaced by a sense of deep understanding that from everything I’ve learned about my dad, he raised me just like had been raised. His father cheated, his father lied, his father beat him. The anger faded because I learned that my dad only knew one way to be and that wasn’t his fault. The anger and rage subsided over time because I came to understand that he was a product of how he was raised, and likely didn’t know any better. I learned that he did all he knew to do, and while it failed miserably, he gave what he could and did the best he could with what he had. It didn’t mean it was okay, but I found peace in knowing that it wasn’t about me even though he tried to burden me with it. 

So what I’m trying to say is this, and it’s the same lesson I work day in and day out teaching my clients…all we can do, is our best. Sometimes our best is going to be kickass and amazing. Other times our best is going to barely reach the level of pond scum and you know what, that’s okay. The point here is that we try and give our best, regardless of what that best looks like. And for the times that our best is closer to pond scum, forgive yourself and work to do and better tomorrow. We all make mistakes, for whatever reasons, but we are not a finished work. We try and fail all the time, so practice patience, and work on reserving judgement because the other people may be having a pond scum day when you’re having a kickass day. Remember that every day is new, different and a chance to evolve both your understanding of yourself, but for those around you. Expect the best, prepare for the worst and grant forgiveness in times where all else seems lost. 

Sometimes just the fact that you are upright and breathing is enough, and sometimes it’s not and we need to work harder. Our best will continue to grow with us and our understanding and the next time you look back, you’ll be amazed to see just how far you’ve come in practicing self-care and love. The more you understand that everyone’s best is different for different reasons and at different times…the easier it will be to show empathy towards others and forgiveness for yourself. 

Progress not perfection.

Drawing Outside the Lines

MotivationMonday with Create Change

*The intent: find a phrase in each #motivationmonday Instagram video and share some unsolicited thoughts.*

During the Instagram live video with Chyler and Nathan this last week, at one point Nathan had mentioned “drawing outside the lines” and for the life of me, I can’t recall exactly in what context it was said. My guess is likely, when he presented the #TueDoList assignment, regardless of the context I would encourage everyone to watch it, or tune in this next Monday for the next installment. That being said, in the very moment he said that statement a light flickered in my mind and I wrote it down without any notion of why. Sometimes that is just how my mind works…little fits and pops with the occasional winding and whirring of a music box, minus the music. In any event, it dawned on me later in the day that I should try and work through my thoughts and determine what on earth I was meant to do with what Nathan said, so here we go.

In my real life, I’m a therapist that serves a very underfunded and rarely supported population. They are the first to be blamedfor society’s ills, the last to get resources and honestly, I cannot think of working with any other population. The severely chronically mental ill and substance use folks are my people. They are overlooked, mistreated, viewed as second-class citizens and many are homeless, living under local bridges or on the streets outside the ever increasingly full missions. I’ve lost track of how many of those I serve have been wrongly arrested, wrongly evicted, misrepresented, used and abused and played against each other for nothing more than crumbs from society’s buffet table. I have watched people cross the street to get away from them, throw change at them in an effort to get them away from their business door, the police called just to move them from a parking lot and everything in between. I’ve seen people literally walk over them instead of asking if they need help…and I wonder what have we become? Truly, is this what Jesus had in mind when he walked this earth preaching love and acceptance? Where did we go so wrong in failing our brothers and sisters?

I suppose this is the time you ask yourself, are you going to mention the phrase that Nathan spoke of or is this just another complaining statement about the political direction our country has gone? Well, honestly my thoughts have nothing to do with the political landscape. It does however have everything to do with how we treat those deemed ‘not like me.’ It’s the classic ‘us vs them’ problem that tears every society apart at the seams, rather than including all the differences and uniqueness that we carry we find the smallest of differences to create distance. We do the opposite of what we should be doing, what would be in the worlds best interest…just like as a child you get shamed for being different. The ones who get praised, sit still and face forward. They don’t copy from the desk next to them, they get good grades, they look the part and expect that from everyone around them. But what about those that can’t sit still, the ones who didn’t get breakfast before school, or the ones who have brains that work differently than the others…when you stay in the lines, you are praised and your artwork gets placed on the fridge, but for those who color or draw outside the lines, get their work thrown out. An example of arbitrary judgments at best that set up our lives and how we view people.

Drawing outside the lines doesn’t decrease the value of a child’s art because at the heart of it, they tried to do their best. It’s about giving kids and others the skills to get better. It’s about acceptance of what we see, what our individual experiences are like and being present. We don’t have to agree, we don’t have to make judgement calls about who another person is…we’ve never walked in their shoes. We have no idea what private battles others are fighting. We don’t know what their life has been like, where they’ve been or what they have experienced. Yet we look with our eyes and cast opinions about as though they are not hurtful. The reality of this is that we are further apart now more than ever before despite the fact that we are all very similar. We all want to feel love, acceptance and desire to be heard. We all have hearts that break, tears that get shed and have the potential to experience joy at the hands of another.

We are not so different. So take a moment, take a chance to draw outside the lines…be afraid to make a mistake…do something that scares you, try something new…smile at that homeless person you pass on the street. Walk on the same side of the street as the person talking to themselves. I’m not asking for a miracle, I’m just asking you to consider being human. I’m asking you to accept all the colors that make the picture glorious inside and outside the lines. We can be so much more. All great things start small.

After all, even the mighty lion was once a cub.

Create Change

#TueDoList

 “Some people have faith in God and expect miracles in 2020.”

There are so many line in this essay that I could speak on, it took me all day of almost constant thought to finally decide on the above. I have mixed emotions about this because I have two very different sides of me that pull at my feelings and thoughts. I guess the first thing is understanding that faith has little to do with what God does or does not do. We are not, nor have we ever been promised that God will give us the best outcomes if we but only have faith. It holds true in many ways that we find miracles around us and attribute them to God, which is fair. But here’s the kicker, God works those miracles through the hands of humans. Antibiotics while being of God, were created by man. The ventilators that kept some of my clients alive, were created by man, but the intelligence was granted by God. Faith isn’t faith if you can see it, or when it responds because it has too. That’s not faith.

Faith tests us. Faith is what makes humans different than other species. Faith can save us in times of extreme hardship, but faith can also break us. Especially if something we strongly believe in, falters. We don’t always get what we think is right, just and true. Sometimes we get a no and sometimes we get a not yet. God doesn’t want us to suffer, but he understands that we all have free will, the choice to be nice or mean, the choice to save or condemn…and the choice to believe that miracles will happen or believe that caution is the better part of valor. There are no rules to the game we are playing, we just have to believe that we can be better than we are. God works through all of us, He brings people into our lives that can help or push or teach…faith does not equal blind ignorance, so you have to remember that God doesn’t use the speaker button, He whispers. The louder we get, the more quiet He gets.

Don’t get me wrong, miracles are great…but He will not rescue us simply because He is God. That would defeat the purpose of even being on this planet. He is the ever watchful Father who lets us free fully knowing we will act and receive the natural consequences. To some degree or another we need to make our own miracles. All we can ask of each other is to try our best every day, fully knowing that our best isn’t always going to be constant day in and day out. Sometimes just getting out of bed is our best, and that’s okay. Other times our best is seeing our homeless, addicted and traumatized clients under a local bridge and making a difference, no matter how small that difference is. Lately, I’m ashamed to say that my best has been horrible…sure I’m there for my clients, doing my job but I can’t self care because COVID has the beaches I walk for serenity and peace…closed. I can really only say this, remember who you are and how you want to be treated. Remember that God has a plan and sometimes we don’t know where that plan is going to take us. Remember that you are loved even when our walks take us far from Him. He is a constant, ever present. But that doesn’t mean we just sit back and let God do what God does…we have to put in the work. Love yourself. Care for yourself and fill your own bucket before you give to others of the excess. Create your own miracles. Have faith in the process. With the utmost love and respect, Deb

Open Letter to a Friend

Dear Mel,

I've lost track of how long we've known each other, sometimes it feels like a lifetime. But only in a good way, you know. There's been a lot that has gone on both between us and around us, most of which we meander through without much thought because it's so routine at this point. Check in, check out, so and so is here to see you, how can I help with this, who is on my schedule, where am I going, oh yeah I called them back already...and the list goes on and on. And I know you hear me when I tell people "without her telling me what I'm doing and where I'm going, I would be lost. I can't even find my way home at this point." Yes, I joke about it, but I'm just making light of how incredibly lost I would actually be without you in my life. Not just in our professional roles, but personally. You've become a beacon of light, yes I understand that it sounds over melodramatic but it's true. You guide my everyday, you help me find ways to be better at what I do. You encourage me to be a better person. You elevate my expectations not only for myself but for those I interact with on a daily basis. No matter what is going on in your life, you always have a smile...I'm truly jealous of how kind, genuine, honest and caring you are in every aspect of life. With all that I am I could never be half as real as you are, seemingly without even trying.

Sorry I got a little off topic, though I'm not really sure that there is a specific topic for discussion aside from me wanting to make sure I tell you what I've been feeling/thinking for some time now. I fully realize that actions taken place a few years back damaged our relationship, a relationship that I have missed greatly and have truly felt lost without. Much like a puzzle piece that has been missing, I don't feel like a complete picture without you. Again, I'm a bit over melodramatic but I have no other way to convey how sincerely sorry I am for my mistakes, the confusion caused, the tears cried and the endless lonely walks down the hallway even when we were step in step. I have accepted my fate in this and will carry that burden the rest of my days and I also realize that our relationship will never be the same. My tears have dried over that, because I think we are forming a new relationship, and I'm hopeful that it will be better and perhaps stronger than the one I damaged. Much like a wrinkled up piece of paper, you can open it up and press the wrinkles down but it's still damaged but it can be something different. I'm not sure that's the best representation of my thoughts, but I'm confident that you will understand this when/if you ever read this. I guess what I'm saying is that I know we can't have the same relationship we had before, but I'm loving the new one that we have now.

It's amazing how comforting HOPE can be. And I have hope that this new relationship will be better and stronger than the last. I'm not sure what I did in this life to have someone like you in it, but I will work endlessly to express my gratitude for the second chance you've seen fit to grant me. I've missed you and I want nothing more than to repay all the guidance, help and care you have given me. I've tried writing you this letter multiple times over the last few months, and no matter how hard I try the words just don't carry the depths of my feelings.

You are without a doubt one of my most cherished friendships. Thank you, for you.

I love you.
Always.
Forever.
Infinity.

Triggers are real...(sexual content) Leaving Neverland

I've been in my head a lot lately, like a lot. I'm having trouble getting my school work done. Trouble trying to get my work work done too. A sort of emptiness...maybe half exhaustion, half overwhelming suffocation. I'll just sit and zone out for minutes and minutes on end...I'll forget to blink even. Even when I'm watching tv, I'm not really watching. And while I feel like this has been going on for weeks, I think it really got worse after watching the documentary Leaving Neverland. Not because it was a horrible thing to watch, not because I took one side or another...I think it just rang a bell somewhere inside me and I realized that so many of my feelings growing up, others felt the same way. In part two of the documentary both Wade Robson and James Safechuck expressed feelings I remember haunting me every day of my life. Feelings of self-hatred, of confusion, of extreme loyalty and manipulation. It's not really even about Michael Jackson...I mean the documentary is but it's more than that. It's the psychological ramifications for the families, the friends...how so many lives were molded, manipulated and transformed into something you couldn't recognize. The lies, the pain, the grooming...it's a masterful example of the sophisticated mind of a sexual predator. 

While I was watching, memories came flooding back to me, not of the specific sexual abuse that I endured but the time in my life where I felt something go horribly wrong inside me. It was summer, mom was loading me up in the bishops van because all the girls at church were going to girls camp for 5 days. It was my first time going, and I had a great time the first year I went. But sitting inside the van, waiting for everyone to load up...parked there in the church parking lot something wasn't right. I didn't feel right. I suddenly became panicked, overwhelmed, anxious, scared...I remember shaking and feeling like I was drowning but I didn't understand why. I told my mom that something wasn't right, something didn't feel good...but I couldn't tell her what or explain myself. She told me everything would be fine and I think she mentioned something to one of the sisters in the church about me not feeling good. But was something deeper, something at the very core of my beating heart...I think I was 14, maybe 15...that week I tried to kill myself. And even then I couldn't explain why. It's just that everything changed. Memories came back, feelings and thoughts and nightmares. I was drowning inside myself.

I had to leave camp early because they said "we can't keep her safe here." So mom drove up and got me and I don't remember what all was said, I just remember feeling lost and hurt that she didn't listen to me when I told her "mom something is wrong with me. Something's not right." I don't blame her at all, I mean even now I look back and realize what a hot mess I was and there's no way she could have known. That was the summer I lost my mind and with it, I don't remember much of high school or my early college years, it wasn't until I started really processing my memories, my life...and having conversation after conversation with God about what the hell happened to get me where I was.

The memories came and wouldn't stop...the nightmares stayed during the days. I was a complete dumpster fire as an adolescent yet was always there for my friends and always had people with me, around me, hanging out with me. My house was the safe house, my mom was mom to all my friends. And none of them knew.

I don't remember everything that happened to me in Boise where we lived from birth to about age 6. But mom has mentioned odd behaviors and concerns, that she was suspicious that something was being done to me. From the ages of 7-11 I was either being touched or being forced to touch my teenage neighbor Jason...my first memories of Washington surround Jason's penis and the secret places I was never to tell anyone about. The back shed, the fort, the stable on Mr. Watermans property, in the local dump, my own bedroom, his bedroom. Anytime and anywhere I was to be and do what he desired. I didn't know it was wrong, I assumed every relationship was supposed to be like that. During those years, we had a babysitter from down the street who, I think was in college...every time she babysat me, I had to touch her genitals while she laid on the sofa and watched tv. I don't remember how many times that took place. There were other times that I became the victim of sexual predators...the drama teacher in high school and the classmate in college that tried to rape me in the library. 

This all came up again for me after watching the documentary, not because it disgusted me, I mean it did but I felt a connection with Wade and James because I remember feeling those feelings. The weight of the world, the confusion, the overwhelming anxiety. The constant feelings of knowing something is wrong but never knowing what it was. The feelings of self-loathing that held tightly to my throat choking the life out of me. I don't know what did or didn't happen in the world of Michael Jackson, I'm not sure I have room to judge one way or the other. But sexual abuse happens, more than I think anyone can admit to. The damage doesn't necessarily come from the physical motions, the damage, the deadly bombs that get triggered even years later...the psychological landmines. They never go away. 

You just learn to be okay with parts of your body being blown off...put some dirt on it, wrap it in duck tape and carry on. 

Until the next bomb gets triggered...

**I want to thank Wade and James for coming forward and praise them for being so strong in the face of great adversity. I can't say I would have done the same. Thank you for sharing your pain.**

https://www.hbo.com/documentaries/leaving-neverland

It's been a while

So my dad called me the other day and expressed disappointment over the fact that I haven't been updating my blog regularly. More specifically, like a year. And honestly I have thoughts every now and then about needing to update it, but then the moment passes and time moves on and pretty soon I blink and years pass by. My job at PACT is a prime example, it was the first job I took after graduating with my MSW...I had no plans on being there long because I wanted to work in the school district but found the educational system too hard to get into. Months went by and then years and last time I really gave my attention to it, I was thrilled that I had reached the two year mark. This September will mark 12 years. I blinked and BAM!!! More than 150 staff have come and gone in the program that I work in, in fact so many have come and gone I stopped counting. Time has significantly passed and it's been a rough ride in the mental health system. Those of you who know me, know that when asked what I do for my job I say..."I try and keep the things that go bump in the night, from going bump in the night." It remains true even though drugs and alcohol have overwhelmed the system and resources have disappeared. We don't have the funding to help these people, finding appropriate care is all but impossible...yet I continue to operate like everything is good. Right now, it's like being on fire and holding still so the flames don't spread so fast. The disaster is all but certain, but to what extent...I know most people have no idea what I am referencing, but since I have to follow the confidentiality hubbub, the most I can say is ride the wave....learn to swim. It's only just now starting...

All that being said I was really miffed at a recent article in the Live in Everett online newsletter. The article I am referencing was written by Christopher Bragg entitled "The Eyes Have It: Everett's Best Views." You click on the link and the first section that receives large attention is a section called

GO DOWNTOWN AND GET HIGH

Dude are you serious?? How did that even make it past your editor? Everett has long been the center of drug jokes, homelessness and most recently national YouTube attention for "Tweeker Cam." We have been the laughing stock of the Western part of the state and even recently have been the focus of the opioid crisis. So for you to title that section of your article in that manner is horribly inconsiderate and lacking a mature level of mindfulness. I'm disappointed. The article could have been so much more and really added light to an otherwise beautiful city. This is truly disappointing and leaves me shaking my head wondering "what were you thinking?"

https://www.liveineverett.com/blog/the-eyes-have-it-everetts-best-views

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=et90HDKKKB8

Words of the Day

Life has been crazy stressful the last few months, a kind of chaotic tornado of self-doubt, paranoia, judgment and fear. There's so many detailed parts to this moving time piece that it's hard to tell where one part starts and another part ends. Literally, all I know has ground to a halt, spun out of control (as though I had any to start with) and it seems as if over night life turned into a horrible version of Survivor. Factions taking sides, friendships tested, lies, manipulation, judgment with and without cause and an ever changing landscape that appears as though it has not moved.

Crazy making right?

As time passed, winds changed, and the screaming and blaming became quite. Present, but quiet. Rumors of this and that...just words to pacify the collective. Well, some of it anyway. The self-doubt gave way to the "fuck its" and the paranoia has become just a part of every day. The hushed whispers, the side way looks and the silent treatment...this chaotic tornado has morphed into a festering earthquake that belches and rolls just enough to remind you it's there...waiting to let loose a seismic wave that rips apart everything you know.

I've become apathetic to my own plight, how messed up is that?

There are always sides, her side, his side, their side, my side. And that's all it is, just sides. No real content or design. We become blind to what others see thinking our "side" is the right side. But what if there isn't a right or wrong side...what if there are no sides? Then what.

In psychology 101 you learn that our minds are designed to complete images, statements, gestures. We can "connect the dots" or read upside down. Our brains are working, functional pieces of art. But what we learn is that in the absence of having all the information for a given situation, our minds will create 'information' to fill the gaps. While that may be well intentioned and serves a purpose it also sows discontent. When we face those gaps in the information chain, the information isn't always accurate. It can be worse than we think, or better, or not even close. For the last few months, there has been a deluge of gaps for my brain to fill in. And in doing so, fueled some of the chaos around me, to the point that even I have changed into someone I don't recognize.

It's a shame really. So much damage, chaos, loss and fear and we still don't know what started or what the tornado, now the pending earthquake...even is. So, in my effort to try and find a way to ground myself amidst the rumors, gossip, games and chaos is what I have been calling "Words of the Day." Some of you may have noticed them on facebook or not, but every day I've created a few moments before I drive into work, before I start my day...I take those few moments, close my eyes, take some deep breaths in and whatever words come to mind, I repeat over and over and over while rubbing a smokey quartz crystal. I'm using the crystal to have a place to focus my energy, my thoughts and letting the universe pick the words. Some days have repeating words, some days have words rarely used in my everyday vocabulary. Regardless of why they come to mind, I keep them with me throughout the day.

It's not a massive task, nor is it going to cure or fix anything that is going on right now in my life. But it's mine. It's my moment. My thoughts. My chance of starting a new day that has the chance to be better than the day before. I understand the earthquake still rumbles. That at any moment, life could cease to be...but I've made the decision that despite those fears, paranoia and guilt (that doesn't belong to me by the way, yet I can't put it down) I will take a few moments out of the day and focus on me.

Just. Me.