in the midst of metamorphosis

That night is shrouded in a dense, alcohol fueled fog. I remember most of it, but it is the feelings that stand out as markers throughout the experience. I cannot tell you what he looked like, but I can tell you how he made me feel. Comforted, accepted, whole, safe, wanted. I didn't know him at all. He showed up at a party. I was feeling sad, alone, insecure. He said all the right words, did all the right things. I had no reason to fear him. yet. I cannot tell you what his car looked like, but I can tell you that my intuition screamed at me the moment I was inside of it.   Get. Out! I ignored her, as I unfortunately do at times. Besides, the charm was still there - why would I worry? We talked and drove and I remember thinking, 'well maybe this night isn't a total bust'. I cannot tell you where we were, but I can tell you that fear was making her presence known. And when I asked to go back and he refused, she settled into the pit of my stomach. and some days, I...

I desire open, honest, and nonjudgmental communication from all people and all views and all ideas. The words of my posts are simply my own thoughts on how the church* can fully be operational in Love. Suicide. It is all over the news this week. again. And every time, my thoughts are the same : why do we have people around us who are hopeless? We are supposed to carry the very essence of Hope within us, so what are we , The Church, doing wrong? For starters, we are not acknowledging mental illness. I know this firsthand. (You can read about our family's struggle with mental illness and acceptance here ) We question the validity of science, and the exact causes of depression and anxiety. Science is not the enemy here. The enemy is our flagrant stubbornness to recognize the truth of many studies performed by those more qualified than I. We offer our thoughts, opinions, and prayers, and little else in the way of actual help. Do I believe in the healing power of positivity...

The area reverberated with gunshots. Shell casings littered the floor. In the far corner, I felt trapped. Too many people lined the narrow room, preventing my escape. I wanted out. I needed out. I couldn't breathe. Uncontrollable fear was pushing its way to the surface. The room was cold. I was sweating. Tears were threatening to fall but I knew that that would be the action that would cause the dam to break. The tiny shred of control that I had would then be lost and chaos would ensue. I knew what was happening. I knew that I was in the grip of a panic attack. I just didn't know why. and at that moment, I didn't care why. I knew that I had to restrain these feelings, compose myself. Long minutes passed by while the rest of my class continued with their target practice. By the time my turn came, I was collected enough to shoot again. I had elected to participate in this gun safety course. I own a gun. I had shot guns before. So, why was this happening now? A...

I first published this in May of 2013. A lot has changed in that time. A lot has stayed the same. There are updates at the end of this post. One of my daughters is on a daily SSRI (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor) or, in layman's terms, an antidepressant. She was diagnosed with the main dish of Anxiety Disorder, with a side of depression. I can joke about it now - and she can too - but it hasn't always been that way. . We first encountered it years ago. At the time we sought church-based counseling but nothing else in the way of help for her. She was so young that I just couldn't imagine putting her on a medication. I had a hard time even accepting that she might have a mental disorder. We got through that time - barely - and went on without it rearing its head again. But when it resurfaced three years ago, it did so with a vengeance. This time, I was better equipped myself to deal with it. There was no hesitation. We immediately saw a doctor, got a prescrip...

What am I going to do? I'm sitting in the office waiting for the results of the test. My mind is racing. My palms are sweating. Heck, I'm sweating all over. I'm scared. and nervous. and feel like throwing up. Or is that just a symptom? I'm making promises to god, which is pretty funny since I haven't talked to him in awhile. Not since the last time I needed help. What am I going to do? Time is dragging. Where is that nurse? Shouldn't she be back by now? Is that a good sign or a bad one? I need to know the answer. No wait, I don't want to know (yes, I do). I can't bury my head in the sand (or can I?). I can't pretend like this isn't happening (right?). I have to know one way or the other. Yes or no. Positive or negative. What am I going to do? This is crazy. How did I get here? I'm too young for this. I'm just a teen. This only happens to other people. This can't be happening to me (can it?). I did what I was supposed to do (or didn...