Tag Archives: Psychology

A Life on Fire

A Life on Fire

While at a stop sign last week listening to pop music (don’t judge), these lyrics pushed their way into my scattered thoughts, “Toniiiiight we are yoooooung, so lets set the world on fire, we can burn brighter, than the suuuun.”

I gave a half snort/half chuckle as I mused that the singer and I probably have very different ideas of what it means to set the world on fire.  Then I realized, perhaps my notion of what it means to be on fire in the world is just as mistaken, or at least incomplete.

When I chose the name Half Kindled, I was filled with the idea that a life on fire was a life full of unquenchable passion.  That a fully kindled life would be one of dynamic, contagious, life changing love; a love that would constantly push out into the world at large where it would transform all whom it encountered.

I still think this is true.  I am just realizing that there is more to a life on fire than this outgoing version of love.  There are also times when this all consuming love looks different.

Many times it looks like suffering.  Long hours of silent, lonely, suffering.  A suffering that reaches down into the core of all that you are and burns away all that does not belong.  And it hurts so much.

Perhaps it is the pain of the hole left behind when the Divine Physician attempts to remove the little selfish attachments that have infected your heart.

Or perhaps it is the pain of having your heart pierced with sorrow as you struggle with the pain caused by physical evils such as sickness or death, or moral evils caused by sin.  And your heart breaks open and burns.

It is in those moments, that your heart can most resemble that of Christ: pierced and aflame with love.

A life on fire is not just for those who are living their passion out in the world; it is also for those who are suffering with great love.  Perhaps few are called to the former, but anyone can participate in the latter.

Some fires have great effect by radiating a penetrating heat.  Others are the still, small flame that shines out in the darkest of nights, and the darkness cannot overcome it.

A Life on Fire

©tacluda /rgbstock.com

Hope for the Future: A Blog Hop on Post-Partum Depression and Anxiety

Today I am honored to be joined by some immensely talented ladies (who also happen to be among my favorite bloggers) to commemorate May as Maternal Mental Health Month.  We all wanted to come together to provide a resource for women to read the stories of multiple catholic mothers who are having to bear the difficult crosses of depression and anxiety, both to provide support for those who are struggling with them, and to raise awareness on the topic for those who have not personally experienced it.  

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Photo courtesy of Fetsko Images

Dear fellow suffering mother,

I see you, forcing the smile as you hold your precious young child.  You were up in the wee hours of the night, putting the baby back to sleep again. Your exhaustion is palpable, your nerves racked, and your newly altered body a stranger to you.

The sense of Isolation encloses you, trapping you in its prison.   You miss the company of other adults, but you are afraid to reach out for help.  In your mind all of your friends have their own problems to deal with.  You think to yourself, “I should be able to do this on my own.  This is my responsibility.  I just need to try harder, be stronger, and things will come together.”  Except despite all or your best efforts, you aren’t able to reach the goals you have set for yourself.  You decide to not leave the house until you get your act together.

You spend immense amounts of time and energy, worrying about your baby’s welfare, spending long sessions with “Dr. Google” trying to make sure that everything is normal.  Now that there is this magical invention of the internet, you think that if you just do enough research and work, you can be the perfect mother for your child.

Any deviation from your predetermined philosophy of “THE ONLY RIGHT WAY TO PARENT,” results in an internal barrage that you can’t silence.  Inability to exclusively breastfeed your child?  He will grow up to have a whole assortment of difficulties from asthma to low IQ, and it is all your fault.  Baby wearing makes you claustrophobic?  Clearly you care more about your own anxieties than your baby’s sense of security.  Or at least this is what you tell yourself as you lie awake, exhausted, but unable to sleep.

You feel like you are walking on eggshells all the time, afraid that at any moment you might snap and release a barrage of tears or anger.

And then panic attacks come.  You feel like you will die.  You feel your throat closing, dizzy from lack of oxygen, fearing the worst.

Then there is the shame.  “Why do I feel like this?  I love my baby more than life, but I hate being a mother.” You convince yourself that you can’t tell anyone what you are feeling, for fear of judgement.

Besides, surely this is just baby blues, you say to yourself, “I have no right to go get treatment when there are so many women who are surely suffering worse than I.  It is just a testament to how pathetic I am that I can not handle this with ease.”

Out of fear of suffering a stigma attached to a “maternal mental illness,” you keep quiet.  You keep your head down and just try to survive each day.  Who knows what horrible things could happen if you reached out for help.  In your vivid imagination every scenario ends poorly.  They might put you on medication that makes you psychotic, or worse take your children away from you.

Perhaps you even start to think that anyone else could do a better job as mother or wife.  You wonder if maybe your family would be better off without you . . .

Stop.  Its not true.  I know, I have been there too.

You are NOT a failure.  You are a beautiful, hardworking, loving mother, who is giving her all.  A mother who is suffering from an illness.  And it is NOT your fault.

Despite what other’s might say, you did not chose this.  This isn’t some spiritual weakness that you can cure through more prayer.  Clinical depression is not despair, nor anxiety a lack of trust in God.  They are biological and psychological conditions, not something you are choosing to bring upon your family because you are “evil” or “weak.”

You bear a heavy cross.  Like all other crosses you didn’t pick yours out nor can you choose when to put it down.  You are not weak for needing help.  Even Christ had help carrying His cross.

Please don’t make the mistake of thinking you are not deserving of receiving help! Don’t prolong your suffering, thinking that these trials are just something that needs to be offered up.  Parenthood presents its own myriad set of challenges and trials for your sanctification, but this does not have to be one of them.  You deserve to be well again.

I am not going to insult you by saying if you just do x, y, or z you will feel all better again.  Each person’s situation is unique and deserves a custom approach to treatment.  Find a professional that you are comfortable with and they will be able to work with you to find the course of action that is the best fit for you.  Some people are able to find relief just by diet changes, or progesterone shots; others find therapy to be immensely helpful; others find that taking medication makes a world of a difference; still others do a combination of the above approaches.  Find what works best for you and don’t let anyone shame you for how you choose to treat your illness.

More than anything, I want you to know that you are not alone.  How I wish I could be sitting with you and talking about these things face to face, instead of separated by screens.  I wish I could be there in person to comfort and encourage you.  I don’t pretend to have all, or even most of the answers.  Heck, I am still trying to navigate this myself.  But somehow these struggles become easier when they are shared together.

You are not alone and you are not weak.  You are a fighter.  You are more than a fighter.  You are a mother.  That is the strongest synonym for brave that I can think of.

Your Sister In Christ,

Katherine

 

Please take some time to check out what the other ladies participating in the blog hop have to say!  

A Knotted Life

Call Her Happy

This Felicitous Life

Mama Needs Coffee

Check out That Sunset

Please share this article with anyone you think it might help!

Have you or someone you know ever suffered from depression or anxiety?  What was your experience like?  What did you learn through the process?

Mother's Day

The Gift You Might Need This Mother’s Day: Permission to Grieve

Mother's DayI love the idea of Mother’s Day: families taking time to honor those special women who have given so much of themselves. My own mother did so much for my siblings and I, that celebrating her generous love for only one day seems inadequate.

For many people, mother’s day can serve as a painful reminder of loss. Perhaps some will be mourning the passing of their mother or grandmother for the first (or even twentieth) time. In other cases, the day serves as a reminder of the child unable to join the celebration through death or separation. Some struggle as they mark another year childless. Maybe, most painfully of all, the day harbors the regret of motherhood lost through abortion, or childhood lost to abuse or neglect.

It is at these times when presence and love are most anticipated and desired, that their absence is most keenly felt.

This mother’s day, perhaps the most important gift you can give yourself or a loved one is permission to grieve. No one wants to feel sad, especially on a day when happiness is expected, but feigned happiness is not very helpful in the long term.

In order to deal with emotions properly you have to give yourself permission to recognize them, and accept that they are there for a time. It is so important not to shame yourself for what you are feeling. Telling yourself, “I shouldn’t feel this way” does nothing to resolve the situation and only adds the burden of guilt. Find healthy ways to express these emotions, perhaps through writing a letter, creating a work of art, or talking with a loved one.

Although I am blessed that my mother is still living, my husband is not so fortunate. Mother’s Day has become one of the most difficult days of the year for him. A day when he needs to take time to grieve.

I have to confess in years past, I was not very supportive of this. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t choose to focus on celebrating me as mother of our growing family and his grandmothers, both of whom are still living.

Frankly, I was being selfish. He shows me in so many ways throughout the year how much he admires and respects all that I do as mother to our children – I was not in any way suffering from a lack of appreciation. I needed to recognize that he was unable to celebrate in the way that I expected and that he needed space to grieve. He needed me to take a step back and truly listen to what he was saying and give him the space to process all that he was feeling. Sometimes it is so difficult to show true compassion.

Broken down into its roots, compassion literally means “to suffer with” someone. Often we focus on doing whatever we can to try to make a person feel better, when in fact what they really need is someone to suffer with them. Suffering alongside someone reveals great love and can foster deepened intimacy.

One of the few good things about grief is that it is a sign of love. No one mourns what they are indifferent about.

I hope that tomorrow is a day of joy and celebration for you and your loved ones. But if it is not, I hope that you are able to mark the day in a way that is full of peace and connection with the loved ones around you. Take time to enter into the day according to whatever season of life you are in. Allow yourself and other’s to be fully present in whatever commemoration the current stage of life requires, even when that is out of step with others. As it says in Ecclesiastes 3:4, there is “a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.”

This Mother’s day, I pray that any sorrow you may experience can give way soon to a time of profound joy.

P.S. Here are a few links to ideas that have been bouncing around in the back of my head, while writing this post:

http://modernmrsdarcy.com/2014/04/my-view-from-saturday/

Star Trek Pregnancy Announcement

We’re Baaaaaack: Lots of Exciting News to Explain My Absence

Well howdy there.  Long time no see.  The past two and a half months have been quite eventful here.

First up, just in case you haven’t met your quota of geekiness for the day, may I present the following announcement:

Star Trek Pregnancy Announcement

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Yep, our family is about to boldly go into the new territory of having three kids.

Continue reading

Pure as Driven Snow 2

“Pure as Driven Snow”: An Attempt at Cognitive Reassociation

One winter morning last month, I awoke to a world transformed.  An ice storm had come and encircled every detail of the landscape.  Pine trees appeared aged, stooping under their new found weight, while bare branches seemed to youthfully adopt their new radiant attire.

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All pictures in this post are my own.

Initially, I glanced unimpressed at this scene, viewing it as another dreary winter day.  I envisioned the ice holding sleeping blooms of the trees hostage, stifling them, suffocating them.  I saw no beauty against the background of the grey sky.

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Then I recalled a similar day several years ago.  A young woman, just past the cusp of adulthood was out enjoying just such a day.  She and her friends shrieked in delight as they struggled to maintain their balance, catching hold of each other.  Peppering the outbursts of joy was childlike wonder at the beauty surrounding them.  Each tried to capture a piece of what that day meant, one through photos, another through a poem.

A brief search produced the poem my friend had written, and a more extensive one produced the pictures I took.  As I savored the words and photos I realized in this very moment I am faced with a choice.

I can choose to be burdened by winter and groan under its weight, like the pine trees, or to revel in the myriad possibilities for beauty that today brings.  Perhaps I can reclaim the part of my youth when the sight of snow filled me with wonder at the strange new world it brought, and the prospect of playing in the wonderland it created was a cause for joy.

 

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II.  

Imagery is powerful.  It speaks to us in the recesses of our hearts, touching on memories and emotions that have woven themselves into the very fabric of our identity, bringing them to the forefront of our minds, often without  our conscious decision to do so.

When the imagery is associated with positive emotions and memories, the experience can be pleasant such as the smell of pine at Christmas time, a photo from your wedding day, the sound of a newborn baby crying for the first time.

Unfortunately, when the imagery is associated with a past trauma or occasion of pain, one can be flooded in the present moment with the pain of past experiences.  Sometimes you can avoid the triggers, but other times they are things that must be faced.

When facing imagery that evokes a pronounced negative experience, it can be helpful to take a step back and try to shift the associations away from the negative experiences to more positive ones.  This can be done in a few different ways.  One can reflect on the negative image and try to discover/rediscover positive aspects of it.  Another approach would be to try to make new happy memories to associate with it.

One example of how Catholics frequently use this technique to great effect, is when sufferings are re-framed as an invitation to join Christ on His way of sorrows, to pick up the cross you are presented and with open arms to suffer with the Beloved.

The first part of the article shows an attempt to cognitively shift my associations with snow in particular and winter in general from my negative perceptions and memories to more positive ones.  In my case, I am working to change my associations with snow and ice from feelings of being trapped, helpless, and afraid.

I was in two car accidents because of snow; in one the car flipped and I found myself suspended upside down in the air, trying to figure out how to escape without falling on broken glass.  I had only been driving at 25 mph.  Ironically, this accident was less traumatic than the other, because I was an adult when it happened.

After the first accident I was scared of leaving the house if there was any snow on the ground (which in the snowbelt of NE Ohio is pretty much all winter).  Every time I was in a car I feared that we would get in an accident, and this time someone would die.  Snow represented a very real fear of death.

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For me this has been a challenging process.  Frankly, I am far from where I want to be in the journey.  I have been able to shift some of my perceptions, but many images still are defaced with the scars my mind projects onto them.

The good thing about scars though, is that they are wounds in the process of healing; they don’t bleed or throb anymore.  The One Who accompanies me in this journey has scars of His own.  Scars which fill me with great hope, for they speak to me of love’s power to heal even the most painful of wounds.    100_0577

 

 

None of this is intended as psychological or medical advice.  I am not trying to play psychologist, just trying to pass along information that I have found helpful.  

 

Have you ever used cognitive reassociation?  Did you find it helpful?  

If you found this article helpful, share it with others!

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