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.

Death Waits for No Man...

I've experienced a lot of death in my life, each time is different yet somehow the same. Whether it's old age, cancer, suicide, suspicious circumstances or accident...when it's time for death to collect its dues...there's not much that can change the outcome. Yes, sometimes through medical treatments or non-Western alternatives we can often slow deaths ever constant footsteps but in the end none of us get out of here alive. I've had clients die, and that's a special kind of pain regardless of the why's and how's...but recently a coworker passed away, seemingly rather quickly and out of nowhere. Of course there were some who knew "something wasn't right" or "he's really not looking well" but I never paid much mind because I was busy doing my job or in this particular situation, feeling angry and bitter that this coworker rarely ever showed for work, went home during the day while giving the illusion he was working or plain just didn't seem to care about the well being of those on his caseload. Not once did it ever cross my mind that maybe there was something wrong with him. Nor did ever come to mind that I could simply ask...I just plodded along, carrying resentment and disdain for someone I never really tried to get to know.

So when death came calling last week, I didn't hear the call but my coworker did. One day he was there, and the next he was gone. It came quick or so it seemed. While I don't know the details, or the background story to share with you...rumor is this, he had liver cancer and knew for some time. His choice to keep this his secret set in motion many things that serve as a wake up call for me, yet I still feel some level of anger over the fact that he carried that burden alone when there was so much more those in his life could have done to help...had we'd known.

But we didn't. And didn't care to find out.

I didn't care.

It's another story to add to the many before this, to be mindful of the burdens and joys that each of us carry yet remain hidden to the world. Our brains are hardwired to complete puzzles, connect the dots and take pieces from our environment and make a complete picture. Even if we don't have all the information our brain will still complete the puzzle...finish the line. So in the absence of information, I assumed he was lazy. Had no work ethic and simply showed up for the paycheck. It was crazy making and frustrated me to no end. Yet there was not one second I cared to ask him what his deal is...I just assumed. In the deep recesses of my mind I put together the observations my other coworkers shared about him, the things I had witnessed or the complaints of clients and formed a reality that while it angered me so...made more sense to me than CANCER.

I could have cared and I should have cared but my reality was a comfortable spot to be in even though each day I was met with anger when I walked in the door. There were days I stewed in my resentment because he showed up to work at 11am and left at 1pm, never to be seen the rest of the day or even answer calls. But as I sit here now, I feel horribly about the person I was to him. With all honesty and sincerity I can admit that I was not very nice to him. I let my brains reality cloud my vision and like an Ox in mud, I just stayed stuck.

So when I found out that he had died, my immediate thought and statement out loud was "I'm going straight to hell." But then a wave of anger hit me because he could have shared his burden and I would have been far more patient and kind...but here's the thing, I should practice patience and kindness no matter what the circumstances. That's the lesson in this story...well, one of the lessons. The other is to accept reality for what it is, and not assume you know something. Seek out information, be curious, and always keep in mind that what seems true to you...may not be true to someone else. We all carry those burden laden crosses, and even when we don't see them...the weight remains.

.............................................................................................................................................................

For my coworker-
Please forgive my attitude towards you. Please hear my sorrow. I should have made better choices and I thank you for this lesson learned. I apologize for not helping to carry your burden and for being selfish and mean. This will be something that I carry the rest of my life, and into the next. I pray your suffering was minimal, that you felt love with your family and that your journey was peaceful. Rest well. And I hope the view from the other side is amazing.

Century Link

A little over a year ago I started limiting my coverage of roller derby and was in search of different sports to photograph, that search led me to the Everett Reign All Female Tackle Football team out of Everett. Since becoming involved in their team and the associated league, I have had many opportunities that otherwise I never would have had the pleasure of enjoying. I’ve traveled with the team outside of the state, met a ton of wonderful athletes that play for other teams in both Washington and Oregon and had the amazing opportunity to do photography for the IFAF International Championships that were held over the summer in Langley BC Canada.

However great all those “perks” were, the one that really stands out is the amazing opportunity I had in August to be one of eight members of the team to attend a preseason game between the Seattle Seahawks and Kansas City Chiefs…not only attend the game but be a part of the half-time entertainment helping out the local Boys and Girls Club demonstrate the important role that sports play in the lives of young children. Four members of the team got to be on television and four members operated as “officials” for two games taking place on the field. I was an official for one of the games and for about 12 minutes ran around on the field where the pros play. It was possibly one of the best experiences of my life so I want to paint a picture for you of how that day went.

Now I’m not a big Seahawk fan, I just don’t follow professional teams with the same passion that I follow college teams, so when it comes to the big leagues I follow individual players…but for one day, I couldn’t have been prouder to be in Seattle. Myself and fellow teammates arrived around noon to get past security, get shown around, go through several practice runs of what we would be doing during half-time and getting all the timing down.  Once we finished that practice runs, we had some down time and were escorted through the bowels of Century Link Field, places the common fan doesn’t have access to. It was amazingly powerful having access to places just by flashing a wrist band…I never would have imagined such freedom, such intoxicating freedom. We were allowed to wander the stadium, most of it anyway as well as sample delicious food prepared for us in the fan zone well before it opened to the public.

I was incredibly overwhelmed by the moment, and so I took an hour to wander around the stadium by myself while my teammates finished eating and started playing games in the fan zone. I was able to walk the inner tunnels, watch both teams warm up, see the artwork in the various team offices and take the steps all the way to the fan platform where they raise the giant 12 man flag. It was amazing to have access to all these places where it was just myself and event staff. It was equally amazing to see all the inner workings of this bustling metropolis and all that it takes to make it possible for a football game to be played. I was so disappointed that I couldn’t bring my photography gear for this amazing day, so I documented everything I could with my phone, a very poor substitute it’s true…but still enough to take you on this journey with me. Our seats were in the upper deck…like upper, upper deck on the East crest of the field but even that wasn’t so bad because the sunset and the views from the seats overlooking the Puget Sound, the Wheel and Safeco Field was something other worldly.

When it came time for us to gather for our half-time duties, for a brief time I was standing on the field with Russell Wilson, Alex Smith, Earl Thomas and…..the moment was surreal. I was just a mere 15 feet from the Chiefs bench watching some of the highest paid players, play the game I love to watch. But I couldn’t spend time reveling in that moment because I was there to do a job, to make sure the Boys and Girls Club shown brightly and that the girls playing on the field would have an amazing experience. 

The moment was so big…the fans were so loud…to be down on that field with thousands and thousands of fans screaming was something I will never forget. And as big as that moment was, once I stepped foot on the turf to do my job as an official the moment suddenly became small and the cheers disappeared, the nerves went away and it was quiet. Suddenly it was just us kids playing football on a field. The many practice runs that we spent over an hour running through in the baking hot sun earlier in the day paid off, it wasn’t difficult to remember the lines, the directions or where and what to do like it was earlier. Things just felt natural and I wasn’t nearly as nervous as I thought I would be…I mean I’ve never been in front of that many people in my life. I realize I was nothing to them, just a big black dot on the turf playing the role of line judge for a brief game of flag football.

But I was standing on the Seattle Seahawks field. I was on blades of grass (plastic though it may be) that greatness has touched and I’m not just talking about hometown heroes. This field has been graced by the cleats of Tom Brady, Brett Favre, ……it was absolutely humbling.

I hope that every player that walks those inner halls, every staff member that dons those wrist bands, every person that gets the opportunity to follow my steps never loses sight of how blessed they are to be there. I realize that the players are just regular men, that there is nothing special about them and that they are no more or less human than I or you…but they have been granted access to an amazing venue.

Thank you to the Everett Reign, Seattle Seahawks and the Boys and Girls Club for this chance of a lifetime.