Recovering from Heartbreak

How to consider, reconsider, and ultimately decide not to attend our daughter's wedding.

Childhood dreams, visions, and hopes are somehow embedded within most little girls. I am not sure how, but with minimal encounters of such direction or discussion, I was one of those little girls who had beautiful visions of my wedding day.  Raising little girls, I had an even greater vision for their special day. While there was much fun chit chat about the beautiful brides they would one day make, it was impossible to prepare for a day where I'd be weighing out reasons to attend or not attend my own child's wedding.
`For the critic's and those who may think this decision is an easy one, you couldn't be more wrong.  In fact, it has been such a tormenting one, the effects of it had a greater force that pushed me right into my emotional breakdown.

So, how does one truly recover from an emotional breakdown in which they are unable to handle one more painful situation?.....................One day at a time.....sometimes, one hour at a time....and to mentally allow yourself the grace to "be okay" that this is all you're able to do.

But............ if you're anything like me, you'll most likely be trying to recover your emotional footing at warped speed, and still be expecting a golden-see through to the other side- elevator that'll lift you right back to the top of the emotional pit you've either jumped into, fallen into, or was sadly pushed into.    Two Words:           S....L......O........W         D...O......W........N...!.!.!.!

Be Fair with Yourself 

This isn't always easy, as there are so many people who "think" you should do it 'this' way, or if they were me, they would NEVER miss their child's wedding.  (eye's rolling) "Good, how 'bout you go to this wedding for me and write a sweet 'love story' about it afterwards?!?!" 
Actually, I 'used to be' one of those "black and white," "get back on your feet," "buck up and suck it up" kind of people with that type of mentality.  Yep, you can ask all of my closest friends, who most likely were front runners of those very words spoken to them (I have since apologized), by me.  It's what many tend to use as their facebook post to prove some finger jabbing point; KARMA.  (I hate those posts btw).....because the moment you yell KARMA, you become enveloped in the very circle of "karma" and you're sucked right in to where it will all come right back to you, and some other person you know will be posting KARMA, and it will be directed at you!!!.....how is it folks miss that point? (a little chuckle needed here)

If you've battled depression, anxiety, or any sort of mental trap that has held you hostage, be fair with being still.  Doing only what you know you can do as you begin to work through the mental baggage, that got you into that pit to begin with.
Maybe write yourself a letter telling yourself how proud you are for the steps you've taken each day.  (keep it positive)

For me, this has been a truly difficult process as I critique myself before anyone else has a chance to, and I'm pretty hard on myself.  But now I've allowed myself to embrace the truth that I am still a GREAT mom, even though I will not be at my child's wedding.

Be Honest with Yourself

Listen, we all have only a slight few folks in our lives who truly genuinely care about us...truly.....so, we all have to also fight back those who believe it's their duty to criticize decisions we all make.
Be honest what you can handle and what you can't handle.

THIS is the MOST difficult one for me to embrace as it has exposes my weakness'.

One of my friends recently shared with me that I don't sound as fragile as I claim to be.  That would be called, "Learned Behavior" that I picked up from the roller coaster childhood I had and growing up with four older brother's, a navy dad, and living my teenage stage in multiple foster homes.   I learned how to appear 'tough' so people wouldn't mess with me, or so I'd hoped....When exposed, I  became  a "pick on Tracy" target (and I don't mean in a playful ornery way).
I don't know how to come across emotionally fragile....but I am an honest person and I can honestly say, without fear, regret, OR shame, I have been extremely emotionally fragile.  Therefore, I've hidden myself out at our lake property and away from other's.

Last year, when my daughter lay on bed rest, there I was taking tender care of her, only to be scrutinized by that family in the most hurtful ways and there was no reason for it.  I never expected my daughter to do or say anything to them, she had a baby to take care of, and I sure didn't say anything because I knew my daughter loved this boy and I didn't want one more thing to interfere with our relationship.
When hateful words were dumped onto my daughter (the day our grandson died no less), I kept my mouth shut to avoid any added salt to an enormously opened wound my daughter had having just lost her baby.
I hoped my daughter would see the truth of the difference between the two families herself.  One side who continually bashed our family yet hadn't visited her one time while she lay still in bed for over a month (except her boyfriend of course), and then our side....who sent care packages, came to visit, sat with her, poured loving words of hope onto her....truth would prevail, and she'd notice the difference.....but she didn't, and she hasn't.

After Teagan's funeral, and the obvious division that was created at the funeral home, I vowed "never ever again to put myself in a situation with that family."
Listen: we all go through the journey of life and our loved one's will pass away.  Christian or not, people are people and there are just moments one should set aside their own ugly attitudes for the sake of those whom we claim to love.  I did that for my daughter at her son's funeral, on that families turf (so to speak).  I took the other grandparents a card and a gift with respect to them losing a grandchild just as we had....not one member of that family even acknowledged ours or any of those who came on behalf of our daughter, to support this great loss.  While Teagan's paternal grandfather thanked us for the gift, the paternal grandmother was the last to arrive, and the first to zip out of the funeral home avoiding all contact with any of our family and friends.

Assume responsibility

Oh, these words are thrown out so quickly, but do people really take responsibility for their own position?
My guard was down, and I allowed myself to get sucked into the emotional breakdown I had.  It's no one else's fault but mine....yet it happened, and I have to now rebuild where I can rebuild, and let go of that which I am unable to withstand.

I have accepted that I cannot control who my daughter chooses to marry.  But I can control further potential breakdowns, by assuming the truth that I am incapable of putting on a 'happy face' and ignoring the glares and rude behavior from this family.  To simply think I can ignore it is foolish, and I've come to terms that Christian or not, I've battled in my flesh, my own hateful thoughts and believe it is a better sacrifice to avoid this wedding, than to refrain from keeping my mouth shut again.

Accept what you are able to  accept

As I explained to this daughter, "if you want to get married, get married, and we will welcome him into our family and respect her decision for whom she has chosen to share her life with."  But, "if you want a ceremony with all the frills and thrills of a joyous union with two families and friends supporting this union, you've chosen the wrong family, and I simply will not put myself in that situation again."

This has been a huge reality check that my weakness has it's own strength, and it's not so pretty.
I accept I am human, and I too have limits.  These limits have been tested already, and I've nearly lost my salvation with the anger I've carried from last years events.

Weigh it all out

As my husband and I take responsibility that we have some anger and bitter roots to deal with, we also accept that this wedding is not a place we can set aside those differences with regards to all that has occurred.  The emotional cost of our absence will be viewed far better than if we forced ourselves to attend.

Hold on to your Faith

While many in the Christian community mean well, sometimes your thoughtless words can be less than supportive, and more painful than I'm sure were intended.   As I've clung to the old rugged cross these past months, there have been many soul searching moments that humbly serve as a reminder, we as Christians ought not to think of ourselves better than anyone else.
Those who tend to resolve every bit of life's circumstance with the statement "God is in Control," is nothing short of avoiding responsibility and almost points every sad situation as though God must have somehow overlooked you/me in the wallowing muck you've been in or I've been in.  And frankly, I'm tired of this 'over used'-'misused'-'lack of sensitivity so it's used' quote.  So please, spare me  and everyone else this Cliche'.   And please, as a Christian woman who has sought other Christians for their support and encouragement, either find something within your own heart to share, or a simple hug will do just fine.  

Grief and sorrow will undoubtedly rock ones faith.  Frankly, I don't need the questionable comments about what kind of Christian I am when there is enough questions I battle for myself, within myself.
Yet, as I pray and pray and pray through my turmoil, there has been a sense of peace that has come over my heart with the reminder that people are people....We're all flawed, we're all broken, and that is exactly why God sent his Son as our Savior.  Therefore, God surrendered control to His Son through his death, and resurrection.  Therefore, when someone unthinkingly quotes what is meant to be a powerful statement, this quote renders my God as some sort of game player who didn't think me worthy enough to rescue me and other hurting folks from painful situations.  NO, God gave each and everyone of us "free will" to choose, and thus endure consequences of our choices.  He is not to blame, WE are.
God remains my main source of comfort, and He has helped my heart to heal in ways.  Each day is a new day, and some days are easier to reach out to Him than other's.  Yet, He IS my hope for a better day...and while that day may not be today, or tomorrow, I try to stay fervent and trust Him.
As I've battled my fleshly anger that tempts me to react toward the injustice our family has endured, my FAITH has saved many lives and relationships because I am honest with what my flesh can handle and what my heart is too weak to handle.  But that does not mean my Christian faith is less than another's.   Peter cut off the centurions ear out of anger he had when his Lord was being taken away, Christ did not condemn Peter for his anger.  My Faith in God's justice holds me accountable to accept the area I might instead lash out in, with anger.

Faith-Being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see.

GRIEF: what TO do / what NOT to do ~ Grief will inevitably find you !

One of the emphasized topics during treatment was "to find one's voice."  Although I've never had a problem with my 'voice' per say.   I've spent my entire life struggling to be 'heard,' when using my voice.  Going to a treatment center in search of the contents I'll share in this post, is exactly why I air this journey with all of you.  I KNOW there are other's out there who have walked the walk I have been walking this past year.  Even if our surroundings may appear unique; grief itself, poses to be equally heavy to every grieving heart.  Someone else's voice might just help open the sound of yours that you've been trying so hard to speak.

So, lets get started...............

  3 NEEDS every grieving person has but may not know how to express

Expressed from personal experiences I've had during heavy grief

~~~Grieving people NEED encouraging words.  "You have been through a lot!  A big bowl of ice cream might be just what you're needing! "  hehe...yes, this IS an encouraging word!!
There was nothing more depressing than being in a room full of depressed people while in treatment.  Talk about absorbing the heavy, gloomy, and pitiful energy from a classroom weighed down by life.  Most of those who taught this class, failed to counter the weight with inspiring/encouraging words.  Respectfully speaking, there is such a fine and very sensitive line when dealing with grieving hearts.  
We should not be treated as though we have somehow "chosen" to battle grief.  Grief is chosen for us as we process our loss.  Our soul experiences grief in an attempt heal from circumstances beyond our control.  Something I realized after seeking treatment for grief, in a rehab center claiming to specialize in PTS and grief....A true grief therapist is very difficult to come by.  
Those battling grief should never be tossed into an emotional pool that treats a grieving spirit as though they somehow "got themselves into an emotional mess."  

~~~Grieving people NEED relationships.  Check in once in awhile....this does not need to be a daily occurrence, but a sweet text, a short call, or a brief visit is quite doable.  We don't need long drawn out time. In fact, it's preferred to keep it all simple.  Which makes investing your time with someone who is grieving an investment that will cost little time from you.
We need our friends to be friends, not fixers, as grief takes time. 
Even when it appears a griever may be pulling away, it is not personal, it's part of the process.

~~~Grieving people NEED validation!!!   such as "I'm sorry you feel as though you're going crazy, but you're not crazy, you're hurting."  
This one specific need became clear very quickly while I was in treatment.  A four week program is not a lot of time to work through any grieving process, yet their step by step program had them digging way back into my childhood.  My goodness, I just needed help working through this past year, and so much time was wasted digging up my well buried childhood trauma's.  When in hindsight, what I really needed was to hear, "I am so sorry for your pain."  and "I can't blame you for feeling the way you do."   

Side note:Those of us who've worked through the long and winding road of grief have a unique ability to offer empathy to another grieving soul.  Thankfully, I was able to learn what I needed from going to this four week treatment program, because I not only learned some applicable skills, but I did also learned how heavy a room full of depressed people can effect my own outlook within my own life in such a short amount of time.   
Let me add emphasis to this 'need'...*in the event you're like me when it comes to a grieving person. When you're most likely to 'tuck tail' and run in the opposite direction from pure fear and heaviness... you most likely know of the heavy load grief brings to a hurting individual. One encouraging and validating word can help another with the mental stepping stones needed for an individual to walk through the dark valley of grief.   We need validation specifically and most especially from others who've gotten through grief, without telling the griever all about your grieving experience.  No two grievers are going to experience grief the same.

What Grieving people do NOT need

***Grieving people do NOT need your judgement or your criticism.  It's an unfortunate custom(from long ago days), lost to those who were in mourning and experiencing grief.  People in those days wore all black, and were extremely respected, as they walked out their grieving days.  Today, we live in a world where folks are impatient, and more harsh with regard to those needing time and tenderness during the days of grief and mourning (I am not excluded from this). 

***Grieving people do NOT need you to compare my grieving experience to your former days of grief....as though your hurt and pain was so much greater than the one who is currently battling grief of their own.  Small sharing between two grieving folks is okay, but expecting another grieving heart, expecting them to somehow carry your grieving burdens, will only cause added pain on both people. 

***Grieving people do NOT need to be left alone as if we have some sort of disease.  We will most likely get through our days of grief, and let me just add, those who have the ability to walk along side a grieving heart WILL be a hero to a hurting/ grieving soul.  (Grievers, like me, know we are a hot mess during the heavy days of grief.  It's why grief carries a lot of shame along with it.  It's why we hide and why we hold in much of the hurt and pain we're experiencing....we don't want to burden anyone else)...but we are not selfish, and we sure aren't a disease that will rub off onto you.  

Listen up people!
May this truth be told and sincerely heard by those reading these words; *Grief, and it's painful path, does NOT discriminate!!!  It WILL find you!

*It does not hone in on one specific religion...Atheists, Muslims, Buddhists,and Christians alike will encounter grief, 
*nor does it specifically seek  Asian people, black people, or white folks.  
*Grief doesn't decide to focus in on those who pick up our trash each week, work in an Engineering firm, whether you are a nurse, a hair dresser, or an elementary school teacher.  In FACT, Grief could care LESS if you are the president of the United States!  
*Grief doesn't care if you live under a bridge, in a camper, or if you own multiple vacation homes.  
*Grief will penetrate folks who make $10.00 a year, 10,000 dollars a year, 100,000, and those who earn a Bill Gates salary.  
*Grief doesn't look at one's geographic location either...whether you live in Russia, Brazil,  Europe, Canada, or America, grief will find you.  
*Grief doesn't care if you go to a Catholic church on Saturdays, a Pentecostal church on Sundays....nor will it care if you fold your arms to pray, as the Mormon's do; whether you pray five times a day on a mat, as Muslims do; or if you scream at your members when praying (as has been my experience) as the olden day Baptist's... 
*Grief could care less if you're the Kardashian's, the Clinton's, Donald Trump, or Angelina Jolie.....ALL will be effected by grief one day. 
If you think you'll somehow slip through the cracks and avoid the experience of grief because you are convinced grief is a weakness in the life of one's spiritual character, look out!  You're about to eat some big 'ole humble pie!  
While I do not wish for it's experience to be served on anyone's plate, grief will inevitably wash over the lives of every single person who is given opportunity to live any length of time here on earth.  

*Grief will stretch your limbs, and much can be learned from its long and winding journey, if one allows the wise teachings to penetrate. However, grief can also create strongholds difficult to break through, from an unprotected heart.  Still, grief can begin a whole new life you never dreamed you'd live, from the choices made during, and even after you've walked it's confusing road. Grief has an ability to create experiences you'll feel blessed to have encountered for all of your living days on earth, if you hold on to your core values.  
There are so many wonderful opportunities one can reflect on after you submerge from griefs heavy load.  Grief also has an ability to ruin the very fibers with which one has held sacred, up until they were consumed by it's natural encounter.  The effects of grief can reshape a family, and ruin a family.  
How would I know?  I've battled it's effects, many many years ago.  You can read on if you're interested in my former experience with grief, or go about your day.  There is no judgement here.
  

This past year has not been my first encounter with life altering grief/PTS, my last living parent passed away on March 11, 1999 resulting in what would deem an appropriate event to grieve.  However, added events prior to my dads death could not prepare me for the 'out of control,' 'tail-spinning,'  road I would travel down, all those years ago......here's a summary of it's reflection.....

     For starters, when my dad passed away, my 29 year old mind struggled to handle the fact that I was now an "orphaned young adult child."  This reality and truth was magnified within my already hurting heart, from events that had occurred months prior to my dad's passing.  
Spending most of our young adult lives attending one specific church, my husband and I had recently begun attending a different church.   Of course, a simple decision to attend a different church should not be a dramatic decision,right?  Yet, this decision sure managed to somehow become a pivotal moment in our young lives.   The Evangelist of this particular church we left, announced our decision to the rest of the congregation (no biggy, if you're somehow an important leader or staff member, right?  we weren't), after announcing this very personal decision, the Evangelist then instructed the members to have nothing to do with our family any further....This may not seem to be a big deal to folks reading this, or, you might appreciate the alarming concern, resulting in this type of handling....Either way you look at it, this was an extremely heartbreaking announcement we learned had happened. Every single friend we'd spent years building and shaping our friendships with, didn't appear to blink an eye from this type of twisted, indoctrinated punishment....    (Utter rejection!!!  Exactly what I've been living with during this past year.  Overwhelming sorrow from the rejection that has pierced my heart, yet again.  Only this time, by my own child who is also going through her own grieving process.....yet, is why PTS has reared it's ugly head during this specific journey with grief...PTS stems from past trauma's, and their rooted effects I was unaware of.)  

     Therefore, when my dad passed away (just a few months after losing all of our closest friends), my life became an out of control mess.   The load was so heavy I began doing what I could control in my life by working out every single day, running, walking, weight lifting...you name it on the work out list, I did it.  I looked good and felt good......but inside my heart, I was not doing so well.   I remember vividly sitting next to my husband (sobbing uncontrollably); I shared with him the fear I was experiencing.   Crying out for help, nearly begging him to save me as I mumbled the words, "Something is wrong!!  I feel as though I am dying inside" (much like the vision of when I sobbed in my youngest daughter's lap last year; begging her not to go back to that environment).  I knew 'something' was very very wrong as I attempted to communicate my needs, attempting to shape them into words he could understand.  Sadly, I'd allowed too much grieving time to slide by before reaching out for help and the enemy had already cornered me, pulling me right into his snare with my weakened state, and my inability to fight back. 
 If you've ever experienced grief, did you even see it coming?  I sure didn't.  My first experience of grief is similar to a vision of a Tsunami...One may see the large wave coming, but the mind fights back it's actual size, until it's too late.  The strong current sweeps over you, and drags you out to sea.  This is exactly how my first experience with grief was.   
  
An Added NOTE to those currently GRIEVING: If you don't tend to your wounds, I assure you, the devil will gladly pour an 'imitation' type salve over them that will only offer momentary, yet very destructive relief.   Bitterness, hatred, shame, and so many other stems will grow out of unattended wounds.....The enemy, unlike a close friend, or child,  will NOT relent once he grasps hold of one's wounded spirit.  It's what he lives for. 

          I confess, I failed miserably during my first experience of grief all those years ago.  My heart could only tolerate so much pain, and the enemy's sole job is to steal, kill, and destroy! Losing my closest friendships and the only man on earth who loved me more than any man ever will, proved to be more than this aching soul could take.  Even with the strong spiritual life I led back then, my battle wounds were too many, to deep, and I was far too weak to recognize 'the one' who stepped in to offer imitation type relief.  Forced into an isolated state left me wide open for any vulture to feast on my open wounds. 
    That specific grieving moment, back in '99, taught me many lessons....I learned that while one can in fact lose their footing, the human spirit also has the ability to rebuild better and more solid footing.  Just as the human spirit can also develop stronger and more compassionate convictions, and especially survive earth shaking sorrow, with time.  Thank God, for the time He gives to those who've grown up in this very broken and hurting world. 
This time around, I've been quite fair with myself, and have allotted myself time to grieve. Today, I have wonderful, AMAZING friendships with healthy people willing to walk along side me through every painful step I take.  Friendships that filled the Center's mailbox while I was away seeking help with my grief, encouraging me every step of this very long and exhausting road.  I thank God every day for your support, for the support of my immediate family, and my brother and his wife who respect the fighting spirit I press forward with.  

I've set still, for the most part, with minimal dramatic reactions to my hurting heart.....until the explosive outburst I endured, from my FIL .   My attempts at being fair with myself as I grieve, fell short of the abusive cycles I've managed to handle for 25 years, until that Sunday afternoon, in August.    No doubt about it, there is a whole lot of bitterness left to deal with as a result, and only I am responsible of shedding the bitter baggage.  It'll be something I'll work on once I'm through this valley of grief.

 

For those who were once our very close friends all those years ago, I have forgiven and am sincerely  not bitter from that painful experience. It did however, leave a scar... which is my own personal scar  from an experience in which I have been victorious in forgiving those who followed a distorted leadership...it is my personal story worth sharing.

There is no telling how large this scar will become from the painful vision of my beautiful daughter walking away.  There truly is no comparison.

DISCLAIMER: While everyone will experience grief at some point in their lives, this blog is intended to shed light on what I have realized are the needs a grieving heart has.  It is not intended to minimize anyone else's battle with depression, grief, or another's individual battle they may be facing.   We all have a unique story to share on the road to recovery.  Specifically speaking, recovering from grief.

It's ALL about "the story!"

My life has not been all doom and gloom.  In fact, I love taking life's heavy moments such as this one, and I find a way to turn it into a comic relief story, or at least bring add a bit of sarcasm to draw emphasis of potentially life saving events, spared by a menopausal woman who is battling a few other things.  Humor has been one of the greatest coping skills I've been blessed to have, since I was young.  Corkey, crazy, life's already too heavy, sense of humor (Pity the person who does not have one).   

If you're reading this blog,  perhaps you don't know me personally.  However, something silly to know, I can NOT repeat a single joke successfully (you'd truly roll your eyes if you ever heard me attempt to retell a simple joke, only to botch it up and ruin it's content), ,......but, I CAN tell adventurous stories that will lift many of life's heavy issues, by ensuring other's that we ARE gonna make it in this messed up, and very broken world.  I confess, I've been quite tempted to turn my head and offer up "the other cheek" or at least 'pretend' to offer that other cheek.....and it go something like this...... The infamous Road Runner cartoon character

who, is always being chased by the 'never relenting,' While E. Coyote.........As the Coyote keeps on and on and on, like many situations I've encountered......the road runner simply steps aside right when While E Coyote appears to have caught the road runner.  I, however, have battled temptation to just "shove 'em" (whoever is riding my last nerve) right over the edge of the very exhausting cliff, called 'conflicts,' I never wanted to climb in the first place.
(Try and keep that in mind if your temperament is that of a coyote and you dare battle a menopausal road runner ;) ).

Allow me to walk you through the initial journey of my detailed road that flew me to the front row 'harbor view,' of Edmonds, Washington.  

                                                            "Buckle up," please.

     

*AHEM

Once upon a time, in a far, far, far away land...........................................*finger snap* 

.............This is No fairy tale story!  But as my beautiful and very sweet little grand daughter Nora says, "Everyone's a princess," this cliff climbing story must go on.....

Google search engine results

Thinking "Google" has been the greatest invention, typing in  "faith based treatment center" proved slim pickin's for what this search engine was familiar with.  

However, this particular treatment center seemed to offer the quality of care I was seeking in regards to therapy, classes that would provide new coping skills, and the ability to live life with opportunity to focus solely on moving forward as well as continue living as a responsible adult who just happened to be caught in an emotional rut.  This treatment facility was not a hospital, but was more like a small community college campus with living quarters that were more like sorority homes (if you will).   

Of course there were a few boundaries which corresponded to each participants focused treatment; including: no TV, cell phones, or internet access within our living quarters.  Welcomed peace and  quiet I so looked forward to for the following few weeks to come.

Only after signing treatment authorizations, medical history, yada yada, yada, including paperwork that seemed like my 'whole life' was getting signed away, did I realize how peculiar it was to be funding an astronomical amount of money to a facility and not ask for signatures of my own "contractual needs" I personally had.  
Frankly, I learned quite awhile ago, how moody I can quickly become when sweat begins to drip down my face.  With menopause breathing hot air down my neck and back, I began spewing them out to the lady on the other end of the phone with emphasis on a couple "non-negotiable's" prior to booking my flight.    

        Request #1........The MOST important of ALL requests......I needed a room/roommate who preferred cooler temps when sleeping at night.  I'm a woman gets quite cranky when I'm hot and it would not serve productive for me or any treatment if I was not able to sleep comfortably at night.  I HIGHLY stressed this ONE as the Most specific need due to hot flashes and menopausal night sweats that are beyond my control.  It's a deal breaker in a job, my home, or anywhere I may be; as it also determines how long I can fairly function once I begin to overheat (just ask every friend or close family member of mine)....this was NON-NEGOTIABLE!    I see every one of my friends and family nodding in agreement as they read this because they know me best, and freeze every time they visit....thankfully I keep blankies in my home to accommodate their need to be warm.

          Request #2.........the administration lady, although she laughed at my request, verbally agree'd just as I led into my next request... Coffee, a coffee pot, and the ability to purchase my own special flavored Coffeemate creamer, and the ability to make coffee in the early morning, when I wake up.

These may seem like silly requests to some readers, but without a great start to my day which comes in the form of a yummy cup of coffee/quiet time, along with a good nights sleep that can only occur with fresh air blowing in from a cracked bedroom window, there just wasn't any sense in seeking treatment.   I would surely fail in any attempts at learning new skills.

Thankfully, Seattle is Coffee Country and this treatment center had the BEST coffee machine anyone would ever want to own.

Waiting room with magical coffee making machine smack dab in the middle.

So far, my initial experience was going well, with the exception of all the tears cried each time I shared with one therapist after the next after the next, why I came to this treatment center.   I felt hopeful and eager to learn new coping skills in the days to come.

After classes, I stepped outside the treatment center and as I began the four block walk to the living quarters I was assigned, THIS was my spectacular view that would accompany me.   Now, Of course I did not have my cell phone to take this specific picture on that first day.......but don't you ponder that thought for very long... I promise, I'll get to it. :-)

If any of you have been to the Seattle area, the views are spectacular!!!!  The air is the cleanest air to breath, and the people?  Well, they're all in a rush to get wherever they are in a hurry to get, and honk to ensure the surrounding folks are aware.  

Let me add note to my readers: I challenge you to set your phone aside for one week.  One simple week, shut it down and set it aside..... see just how sensitive you become during that week, to all the sounds around you.  You will notice things you've been overlooking for far too long.  You'll enjoy the family that is so very important to you, that has been so easily interrupted by your personal phone, or theirs.  

(Just a challenge...and a quite freeing one)

Thankfully, I had the old Ipod which doesn't connect to the internet, and therefore, I was allowed to keep it with me.  With fabulous praise and worship music tuning out the rest of the world, I soaked up this first walk down the street overlooking this majestic view of the Olympic Mountains.  I praised God in my heart, for a chance to seek solace, and refreshment for my soul...........music playing in my ears......."I look up to the mountains, Does my strength come from the mountains, NO, my strength comes from God, Who made heaven and earth, and the mountains...........my  help comes from You, You're right here pulling me through, You carry my weakness, my sickness, my brokenness all on Your shoulder's, Your shoulder's"......(music from the song: 'Shoulders' by King and Country)
Soothing music, beautiful view.....all the way to the door of my new little home.

Victory Home!!!!  YES! That is exactly what I anticipated would occur during my stay, Victory over this grief.....I was overwhelmed with hope as I entered the front door.
I'm not exactly sure what I was expecting when I walked in.  Maybe I thought a few people would be out in the living room, kitchen area maybe.  There wasn't a single person around, and I sure didn't know if anyone was even home.  The house was quiet, and when I say I love quiet, this wasn't a peaceful type of quiet......no, more like an uncomfortable type of quiet.  "Maybe they have all been turned into 'Stepford Wives' and their robotic selves are busy doing housework, or recharging their batteries".....
No, I didn't really think those thoughts, but it sounds good doesn't it?  hehe...
The house was waaaaay too quiet for my comfort.  All the same, I needed to unpack and settle into my new home.
There's no easy way to describe the experience of those first moments when I entered my bedroom....I simply turned the knob (not thinking my roommate was even home as the lights were out), reached in to turn the light on, and "SWOOSH!!!!!!!" It was as if propane combustion had built up inside my assigned bedroom.........someone must have sat, waiting, and anticipating my entrance and as soon as the door opens, BOOM!  "Is this some sort of joke?," I slightly ponder this fleeting thought. ...

Not even exaggerating!!!  Every ounce of excitement, peace, calm, a focused mindset...it ALL went up in smoke upon entering that steamy, brutally hot, sauna like bedroom.
There had to be some sort of mistake.  Why in the world would a treatment center that is providing help to folks battling anxiety, depression, PTS, etc. etc, place a brand new, just arriving client in the number one environment that was specifically mentioned was opposite to what would provide quality rest for a successful and focused treatment plan?
I quickly began scoping the room for the crazy lady who needed a SPACE HEATER when it was almost 60 degrees outside??  There, to the right of my viewing my eyes caught my extremely large and over stuffed, packed for an entire months stay, red and black, Samsonite suitcase.  Yep, this was my assigned room, and as sweat began forming above my brow, the heat began rising within me as well.....
"OH MY GOSH!!!! Tell me this is not happening?!" 
Right about three seconds into overwhelming thoughts of the idiots who would even mess with a menopausal woman when I specifically requested a certain type of room to fill a NEED, far more than a want....night sweats are very real.....just like the sweat that was now dripping down my utterly dismayed self.
That's when I glanced down by my feet and noticed the space heater that just happened to be a toes length away from my left foot, and within "kicking access" for the nasty sweltering heat coming from every angle of it's small rectangular creation.  Visions of an oval football slightly replaced the overwhelmed sensation I was battling.  After all, I am the new gal, and I didn't want to expose my ugly side before I had a chance to pick up at least one helpful, 'calm me down,' skill.  
As I fought back my temptation to break the little sweltering machine that was causing sweat to now drip off my face, OUT pops a tiny blonde haired sleepy gal from under the covers of the twin bed that set parallel to my assigned bed, as was merely feet from one another.  The girl was wearing a thick black hoodie, and appeared as though she was not ready to protrude from her little cocoon with which she was hibernating in.  A semi-sweet "hello" escaped her squinted eyes that weren't quite ready to open from the bright light in the room.  
I quickly apologized as she began to leave the room so I could unpack, and immediately responded how that wouldn't be necessary, "I won't be unpacking" was my automatic reply.  The poor girl looked stunned by my 'matter of fact' comment.

AND SO IT BEGINS!!!!  The effects of taking something like this, so personal.....as if I somehow overlooked emphasis on communicating this to my intake person, and here I was, placed in complete POLAR Opposite environment to my request.  Searching for a phone number to call from the house phone they provide, to discuss this 'mindless' problem with administration.  However, not one single number was provided on or around the phone, and the rule book stated that $150.00 fine would be administered to anyone who did not sleep in their assigned bed.  That was NOT happening!!!  I would Gladly utilize the $150 and stay in an air conditioned hotel where I was in charge of the thermostat ....Hotel bound is exactly where I was heading....So I packed up an overnight bag, and walked the few blocks to the hotel I had stayed in, prior to arriving at treatment.  


For over the past year, prior to seeking treatment for my PTS, I've truly held in lots of heavy emotions that most likely would not have led me to this point had I fought back when our family was being attacked.  Sure, it would have reared it's ugly head eventually, but I was feeling pretty fragile on this very first day of treatment and did not want to create any attention drawing 'waves.'  
So, I focused on the only "solution" I could muster in my mind after a seriously stressful introduction to the gal who 'would've' been my roommate, and headed down to a nice cool hotel room.

WARNING to those who are tempted to minimize the sad reality of my sweaty truth: Everyone battles with a "non negotiable" in their individual life, and being hot and sweaty can pose a purpose at times ;) but NOT when I'm trying to sleep at night.  Studies prove that the cooler it is, the better one sleeps.  
without a good night sleep, there sure was not a need to seek help , and I was very specific in communicating this "need."     But You'll all have to wait to hear how it turned out from here.  

~Next Week~ 

Thank you to the lovely messages from the past three posts.   I realize I have not responded, but I did read them all.  I'm working hard to stay off of facebook and my cell phone, but I was moved by the outpouring of love I've received, and thank you for reading.