Category: depression

the best of things…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay

Inspired by Emily P. Freeman, I’m spending a little time with her reflection questions and considering what I learned this spring. She asks the following questions:

What was your favorite photo from May?

As the season unfolded it became clear that the normal spring we craved wasn’t just going to happen. March faded into April and so many of us sat waiting for it to feel the ways in which we’ve believed spring should feel– and it never did. In the realizing this, with May came accepting that we had the power to choose a new way to approach spring-mentality. With that, here in Pennsylvania, also came a lot of rain.

Rainy days are rejuvenating, but rainy days in the month of May are special. They carry with them a sort of life-giving magic.

Name a thoughtful moment in May.

I stood outside a closed window, in the middle of some bushes and landscape rocks, peering through at my mother. She sat slumped, vacant, in a leather recliner. She could see me, I think, but mostly I believe she saw through me. Through me, beyond me, into something that I could never reach. She couldn’t understand we were there to visit her. For over a year she’d gone without the loving embrace of someone who cares about her.

When I’d visit I would try to brush her hair, and rub lotion on her cracked and aching feet. Most of the time she knew what was happening, but sometimes she did not. Que the pandemic. I’ve only seen her “in person” twice, both times with a pane of plastic or glass between us.

This time, seeing her catatonic and missing, I had to wonder what the next time will be like. Will there ever be a time when I run a brush through her long, grey hair again and she knows that I am her daughter?

i just don’t know.

What’s something you look forward to in June?

My dear, beautiful friend is coming to visit and I cannot wait! She and her precious babies will be in my house. We will laugh face to face and it will be so unfathomably glorious!

8 Things I learned this spring…

  • My body does not heal or grow by my mind-designed time table.
  • I am most at peace with God outside of a “church”. I’d been teetering there for awhile, but finally I surrender.
  • I need to force myself to read more.
  • More about where the land I live on originated. The Native American history is something we all need to intentionally learn about. I’m trying.
  • Different doesn’t mean bad. Sometimes new and different can be better, and sometimes it won’t. Even so, holding space for the different is almost always a good idea.
  • I don’t have to do all of the things.
  • It is important to me that when it comes to publishing my work, the publishing and representative relationships I form are sensitive regarding the topics of inclusivity, mental health, abuse and sexual assault. I will not hand my work over to a publishing house, in exchange for royalties, who may choose to publish someone who contradicts those values. This was a huge moment for me.
  • My body may not look like I wish it did, but she has carried amazingly difficult burdens. She has been through so much physical pain, almost since her very beginning, and it is my responsibility to love every ounce of her.

trusting the journey…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay2 Comments

I sit here typing these words at forty-five years old. Forty-five… How did that happen? I still feel seventeen inside, barely treading in too-deep-water and wondering when I’ll be able to stop pretending like I’ve got this whole thing under control. I also, admittedly, feel about ninety-two, or at least how I imagine ninety-two to feel when a body is achy, chilled and worn.

In truth, at forty-five, I guess I’m caught somewhere in the middle.

Many years ago, I expected I’d have it all figured out by the time I reached today. Finances would be set. Big life things would be set. All emotionally healing and duress would be behind me. Weren’t we taught by example that these middle days were more like floating life’s lazy river than drowning in the water-rushing-deep end?

I thought so, anyway.

Then my thirties came, and my forties, and I began to realize that all those years ago when I looked up at the adults in my life, they were just treading tired water too. When a once-good friend was depressed over turning forty, as I crossed into thirty, she miserably said that older friends told her it got better then. I encouraged her but left the truth we were both thinking, unspoken: It wouldn’t get better, it would be old.

Old.

The truth is that those in their thirties tell the younger ones it gets better, and it does. The same goes for forties to thirties and fifties to forties… And, at forty-five, it’s fair to say I think it’s true. I mean, flexibility, health and joint pain may not get better- but inside, it does.

How we see the outside– what we’re willing to accept, and tolerate. What we will no longer settle for… As souls, we feel better.

When I thought about this idea of a time in my life when I trusted the journey, my mind came up blank. I sifted through memories of baskets I’d placed all of my hope/faith in, and how each one of those baskets kind of failed. There is this sad little pattern of that sort of thing, within my forty-five years. I’ve tried not to dwell on that, but I’ll admit it doesn’t really encourage me to go all in on faith/hope/trust, when it comes to chapters in my journey. So, I sifted and I sorted even more, looked even harder. I have always been a woman with faith, though that faith has significantly morphed, mutated and changed over the years, so surely I could find some time when I’d trusted the journey…

And that was it: the journey.

While many aging-breakdowns happen at thirty, forty, fifty– mine happened at twenty-five. At twenty-five years old, I had crumbled. With my therapist, I climbed out of that chasm acknowledging that I had a life and it could be the life I chose. I chose to be a wife. I chose to chase motherhood. I chose to be a writer. I chose to help women heal their traumas and choose their lives too. Up close, with a macro focus, it wouldn’t seem like I had much faith (or success really) with those choices… When I step back though, and take in the journey of the past thirty years, I am awed. I chose marriage. I chose to chase motherhood. I did all of the things. Some of them worked out, and some of them blew up in my face. Some days found me sitting in a bathtub covered in pills and vomit, choosing to live despite trying not to. Some days found me overwhelmed and running, and other days found me standing tall and ready for the fight.

Some days… Some moments… Even though I had momentary lapses of surrender and worn exhaustion, the fact was that I did not give up. I moved forward. I embraced choices. I made plans, wove dreams… I trusted my journey.

Back in March I shared the trailer for the film Finding You, which releases on Friday May 14th. In honor of the release, I am giving away a $25 Fandango gift card. I know it might be a little anxiety-inducing to think of going to the movies, but I also know that as things continue to become safer, it’s time that start adding life-moments back in. A free gift card might that nudge you need!

To Enter:

  • Leave a comment on this post by Thursday May 13th at NOON EST, telling of a time you trusted the journey.
  • Leave a comment on the coordinating Instagram post by Thursday May 13th at NOON EST, telling of a time you trusted the journey.
  • Share it in your Instagram story or on Twitter– you MUST tag me (@rainydayinmay)

Your name goes in the drawing for all things… Meaning if you comment both places and share stories/tags on each day, you could technically get ten chances to win. I mean, I’m not going to tell you what to do, just saying you COULD do that. ;)

Let’s hear it… when is a time that you trusted the journey?

just a case of the february…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay

I hit the second half of February in solid migraine form. I was in bed, living in a heightened state of nausea. The following week my husband had his second dose of the Pfizer vaccine and he was down for the count for three blurred-together days. (his blur, not mine. I was clear headed, but they were unnaturally long days.) The day that he felt human again was the day I was knocked back down:

fever.

chills.

migraine fest.

fatigue.

It was like we were tag-teaming on the worst part of winter blues and seasonal illness, except that he had a reason and I really did not.

In this era of C-19, when every sniffle raises a heightened paranoia, I made the decision to label whatever mystery was bringing me down (life? fibro? stress?) as February.

Are you feeling better? What do you think it was? I am, and February. It was February.

It works, don’t you think? It works because February is possibly the worst of the months. Winter is dragging on (or unfairly pummelling Texas, if we’re lasering in on this year) and though the days are growing a bit longer, it doesn’t matter too much when it’s still cold outside.

Beyond realizing that February is my least favorite of the twelve months, I thought I’d take this end-of-the-month reflection time to share some other things I’ve learned through these past four painfully long weeks:

  • Our little rescue kitten Darcy is nine months old. No one told me that nine months would bring her heat cycle. It was short, but those days were intense. Mostly we both just felt so bad for her. Bless. Also, our vet can’t get her in until April… Will she cycle again? I know nothing… except that the vet will only see her 8 weeks POST cycle so fingers crossed she does not.
  • Because we could not go out for Mardi Gras (something we love to do, even if we are here in the north), I decided to make some Creole food at home. The dirty rice was pretty meh, but the shrimp dish I made was PHENOMENAL and the beignets were a bit like heaven. All in all, a win.
  • A fellow writer talked skeptical me into joining Clubhouse. I was 100% convinced it was stupid and I’d hate it. It turns out it’s timely, pretty fantastic and I love it. Since so much of my job and passion involve community and connection, it has been an incredible experience.
  • Meundies. Have you heard of them? I was told they were the “softest and most comfortable underwear on the planet” and, once again, I was super skeptical. I was wrong. They are heaven. Also, here’s a code to save you $20. Trust me, you WANT to save it to this.
  • I spent moments in February coming face to face with my pride. Really questioning why something may have hurt my feelings and realizing it was up to me to keep myself in check. Sometimes that self reflection can feel really scary and trust me, I am no expert. Growth can be painful, but these growth moments were so healing.

And now, we are practically at March. A beautiful, closer to Spring blank slate and I am here for it- tired, but ready…

let’s talk about our men…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay

I wanted to take a moment to talk a little bit about mental health. Primarily, men’s mental health. I love that more conversations are happening and we are, as a people, more willing to recognize this issue.

With most mental health things, we often do nothing because we feel powerless to make an impact or bring about change. This isn’t because we don’t care as much as that we care deeply and don’t know how to help. I want to direct our attention to some statistics and something that will be an amazing resource.

Family Man is a free, online course designed to equip fathers of children between the ages of 2-8 with the practical skills needed to cope with frustrating situations. Drawing on research-based principles of positive parenting, Family Man uses the latest parenting strategies that support happier homes and better mental health.

“There is a huge amount of research that shows parenting is more effective when it’s done as a team,” said Jane Endacott, Director of Digital Health Mental Health and Suicide Prevention at Movember. “We know that when dads are fully engaged in parenting decisions, it benefits the whole family.”

The interactive program is comprised of three 20-minute animated episodes. Each episode features a father as the main character who is faced with a challenging situation such as a battle over the dinner table or a public tantrum – common meltdowns that can cause friction in households and impact the whole family’s mental well being. Users are prompted with a number of possible ways to respond to the situation and an explanation of the pros and cons and likely outcomes of each option coaching fathers through each situation step-by-step.

Adapted from ParentWorks[i], a successful program designed by Professor Mark Dadds at the University of Sydney, Family Man has been vetted by a global panel of psychologists and parenting experts.

“Evidence-based parenting programs are effective in reducing behavioral problems, yet few involve the participation of fathers,” said Professor Dadds. “Family Man was designed to be accessible to all families and may be especially useful in rural and remote areas, where resources can be hard to access. It can be fully delivered online, without the support of trained practitioners, which is a key barrier for many parents.”

A recently launched survey by Movember of 1,600 fathers across North America including 800 US fathers from across the country showed that:

  • Nearly 2 in 3 US dads (63%) said they would be very or extremely likely to seek advice from an online website dedicated to fathers
  • 54% of fathers felt there was a lack of online parenting resources for fathers
  • 47% of fathers felt parenting advice from websites and social media are not aimed at them

Additional survey findings helped inform the need for a tool like Family Man:

  • 94% of dads reported that they feel more engaged with their children during the pandemic
  • 1 in 5 (19%) US fathers say their child’s behavior at home is somewhat manageable while 16% of US fathers say their child’s behavior in public is somewhat manageable
  • 31% of fathers reported feeling more impatient since having children

The  State of the World Father’s report indicates that approximately 80 percent of men will become biological fathers at some point in their lives. In addition, a previous study conducted by Movember also found that 67% of soon-to-be fathers and more than half of all men say that men are under more pressure nowadays to be good fathers.

For more information, visit familyman.movember.com

four…

Published on by Mae @ Rainydayinmay

Growing up a little white girl, among a see of hispanic children was both hard, and it wasn’t. I mean, it WAS hard because I always felt like I didn’t fit in. Adding to that the fact that my mother was a smoker and the kids at school always made it a point to acknowledge that I was a Gringo, and stank. It also wasn’t hard though, because it was what I knew. I had no alternative to compare it to.

Childhood leaves us with the funnest memories, doesn’t it?

When I was a teenager I was living in a fundamentalist group home in (then) rural Idaho. Life was the sheltered sort, with the exception being church and youth group at a local “city” church. A mojority of the normal kids at church, living in their normal homes, going to normal schools and eating normal foods thought us group home kids were freaks. To be honest, their parents also saw us as dangers. It was an isolating and pretty scarring existence.

With this package deal attached to my early life development, there was also the personal feelings (SO MANY FEELINGS) that I had about NOT fitting in. Not feeling a part of things, sure. I had essentially been abandoned by my family and lived a daily life of rejection, so those feelings made a lot of sense.

I also didn’t WANT to fit in.

While everyone was listening to what was hot and trendy, following the current of what they believed kids our age were supposed to do, I teetered there, unsure.

Did I follow along, accept and finally achieve belonging?

Did I go with my gut and follow the less worn path of obscure movie tastes and worn out sneakers?

The struggle was real.

I believed the struggle would eventually subside as I matured into a woman, beyond the angsty years of teenagehood. I was wrong.

That eternal quest to belong equated itself with my sense of personal worth so deeply. Knit by (what I believed, at the time) the rejections, abuses and abandonment thematically designing my life, a melancholy hopelessness settled into everything I did.

I went into group home care in 1988.

I walked through that gate and into the real world in 1993.

I became a wife in 1994.

In 2017 I learned that, on the enneagram chart, I am a four.

Fours have big feelings. Fours are creative and artistic. Fours ache to fit in, but also want to dance to their own rhythm. (and their own, non-trend decided tunes) Fours are (likely) the 90’s emo kids. They are the ones not regularly depicted on screen, in film and television because they happen to (probably) be the real life people writing those characters and creating that art.

I embraced my four.

I connected with other fours.

Knowing these things, having these explanations, it’s like the comfort of filling the gaps I’ve lived with, unwhole, for my entire life. It also forces me to see where my flaws lie. The how’s and the why’s.

I am able to know “ok, these are things I’ll do when I’m at my emotional healthiest”, and “these are indications that I need to work some stuff out, because I’m struggling.”

So many times we’ve humorously mumbled about life not having an instruction manual, or people not coming with a guide.

Guess what? We do.

That is literally what the enneagram does for us.

Plainly put, it is EMPOWERING.

Owning our truths helps us with one another too. For instance, I know that if someone on my team is an enneagram two, they will be prone to saying “yes” and people pleasing. Knowing that, and asking a lot of them anyway would be exploitive and selfish. Additionally, being married to an enneagram nine has helped me realize he isn’t passive or apathetic, he is simply prone to not cause ripples. At his unhealthiest, this can be dark and explosive. Knowing these things helps me love and respect him the way he deserves. It helps me see all of him, and love him.

If you don’t know where you’re at, or want to learn more, I strongly recommend the Road Back to You, by Ian Cohn. Also, in this week’s episode of the Collective Podcast, Abbey Howe is hanging out and chatting random ennea-info with us. Her youtube channel Enneagram with Abbey is super fun and informative. (As is Ian Cohn’s podcast!)