9-11 Memorial

   ( Yes, I am very aware that September 11th was almost 2 weeks ago. It's taken me that long to get this on the blog. )

 As a family we have always spent time on September 11th  walking through The Healing Fields by Sandy City Hall. We listen to the stories, read the names of those that died, talk about what happened that day and have even volunteered our time in taking the flags down. If you don't know what The Healing Fields is it is a display that was put up for 10 years in Sandy, Utah to honor those that lost their lives that day. There has always been one flag for each person that died as visual reminder of who was taken from us that day. With the USA flags standing in proxy for each person that died it has also been a reminder of the spirit of the American people. That is what I like to remember most. As a nation we were senselessly attacked that day but we were not defeated. There are stories after stories of how people came together to help one another, even at the expense of their own lives. We did not cower and live in fear. We came together to show our patriotism. We did not let those terrorists win. I remember for months afterward seeing flags flying in almost every yard as a show of solidarity and support for our nation and those whose lives were forever changed.
     We were heartbroken to find out that The Healing Fields was not going to be displayed this year. In our home school studies we have always spent September 11th remembering that day. As September 11th approached this year, my kids and I were trying to come up with a project that we could do that would be a small-scale 9-11 memorial. After throwing around many different ideas we decided to make our own version of The Healing Fields. Using toothpicks as our flag poles, we cut out white pieces of paper and colored the blue rectangles and the red stripes, glued the flags to the toothpicks and stuck them into a Styrofoam board. We made 2,983 flags by hand. What we thought would be a one day project that would take maybe 5 or 6 hours, turned into a 6 day project that took over 20 hours with 6 of us doing most of the work but 3 or 4 others joining in to help here and there. It was truly a labor of love that caused us to shed blood, sweat and tears (literally). Our flags varied in shape and size and color, not unlike those whose lives they were representing. Some were more faded and worn by the time we finished, others were bright and bold. Some flags stood taller and straighter while others were angled and closer to the ground. Some were short, some were tall, some were wide and some narrow. They all had something in common, though-they were all American flags. They all represented a life that was cut short. Each flag represented many lives affected by the events of that day. Each flag was worth the time and effort it took us. We will keep this memorial and take it out each year (maybe even add new aspects to it) and remember...to never forget.
   

Some of the strongest people I know have a mental disorder

     My daughter, Sami, was supposed to go to girl's camp last Monday. She went to camp last year and had some hard, lonely experiences but she was trying to get past it to go to camp this year. She had her bags packed 4 days before camp and she talked about camp with excitement (most of the time). The night before she would leave she broke down. This is not unusual for Sami. You see, Sami has Generalized Anxiety Disorder. Most people just think this is another way of saying she is afraid of a lot of things. It's actually a lot more than that. Nobody has any idea how hard the every day little things are for her and for others that suffer from some type of mental disorder. For Sami, she worries about things that no 13 year old should have to worry about. Her worries for camp included: What if I get altitude sickness? What if I get bit by a poisonous spider? What if we are in an accident on the way there? What if I get food poisoning? What if I need to come home? What if I have no one to talk to? And the list goes on and on. Every time she would come to me with a worry I would try to logically talk her through it. The problem is that anxiety disorders are not logical. You can't just talk the worries away. That's the difference between an everyday fear and an anxiety disorder. I get frustrated that people label Sami and others as afraid of everything. Sami is actually a very brave young lady. Even though she walks through every day of her life worrying about hundreds of things, she keeps trying, keeps moving forward, and does not just let the anxiety win. Sometimes the anxiety is more than her young 13 year old mind can push through but that does not make her weak and afraid. It means she has already fought it and fought it as much as she possibly can and it has worn her out. At these times, Sami is heart broken. She knows that her disorder has taken another opportunity from her to be a normal young lady. This was how she felt on Monday morning when it was time to climb in the cars and after fighting and fighting her anxieties, she couldn't do it. The way that some people responded to Sami's inability to follow through and go to camp made me realize that many people just don't understand mental disorders. Having a panic disorder myself and knowing many wonderful, strong, courageous people with mental disorders I have found some things that seem to be good rules to remember:

1. Mental disorders are no different than any other disease in that they are not something the person can easily (if at all) control. Would you expect someone with diabetes to force themselves to stabilize their insulin levels? It's no different with a mental disorder. People think that because our minds are so strong, those with mental disorders should be able to talk themselves out of their feelings. What they don't understand is that our brain is the part of our body that is malfunctioning at these times.

2. People with mental disorders are not just trying to get attention. They often do not want the attention brought on by a break down, panic attack or some other symptom. They wish they could hide where no one could see what they are going through but many times the situations that trigger a break down are caused by the stress of others expecting something from them that they can't do. Therefore they find themselves feeling on display for others to judge their inadequacies. If possible, give them space to fight through what they are dealing with without feeling awkward and embarrassed about being observed.

3. The symptoms of mental illness many times seem illogical because they are. Don't be offended if your attempts at logically talking someone out of their feelings doesn't work. The last time I had a panic attack I was on my way to a bridal shower. There is nothing logical about panicking about a bridal shower. It made no sense to me and therefore there was no logical way to "talk me through it".

4. People with mental disorders are actually fighting their disorder all the time. They don't always show or tell what is going on in their mind. Imagine if you were fighting an internal fight all of your waking hours. It can make you grumpy, irritable and sometimes selfish. Do not take this personally or make someone feel like they have disappointed you. Just give them space to work through things. Here again, would you expect someone with cancer to have energy all the time? Would you fault them for those times that they are too tired to accomplish anything? It is the same for those with mental disorders. Their symptoms are directly linked to their disorder. Sometimes just waking up and putting one foot in front of the other and trying to fake their way through a day is all they can handle.

5. The most important thing is to just love them. Don't expect more than they are capable of. Don't judge them. Don't make them feel like a freak because they are not "normal". Do not talk about them behind their back. They did not ask for this but are doing the best they can. Just love them. Because the truth is they have a hard time loving themselves and they need to know someone believes in them.

My biological dad passed away today...

I was in the middle of making lunch for 7 children this afternoon when I received a phone call that my biological father was in the hospital and would probably not make it.

My biological father, Ed, was not a part of my life while I was growing up. He and my mom had been married for a very brief time and when their marriage ended, they both agreed it would be easier on me for my mom to take custody of me and later for Allan (the man my mom married when I was 3) to adopt me as his child. As a child, I didn't understand who Ed was and I didn't care to have a relationship with him. As I grew older and realized that the relationship I had with Allan was not a "normal" father/daughter relationship, I resented that Ed had walked out of my life. Fast forward to the last few years and I have longed to have a real father: Someone that loves me unconditionally, that feels a sense of protectiveness toward me, that puts my needs before his own. I didn't really realize how much I wished for that until recently when I have come to terms with the idea that although Allan gave me his last name, he was never really a father. Then, last summer, I started communicating with Ed through Facebook. I know many people like to think that Facebook is evil but I will be forever grateful that Facebook brought me in touch with Ed and that side of my family. I felt like I was just starting to get to know things about Ed and his wife, Carlene, and their children (my biological siblings) when Ed got the news that he had cancer. Can I just say that I hate the "C" word? Cancer is a horrible disease that takes too many good people from this earth. In the end, cancer took my dad.

By the time I got to the hospital, he had passed away. I never got the chance to talk to him in person in my adult life. We talked through Facebook and texts but we never got to sit down and really get to know each other. I was waiting until he started feeling better so I could meet with him and let my children get to know their grandpa. I am so emotional about that. I don't know how I can say that I miss someone I didn't really know or how I can mourn the loss of a life that had not had much time to influence mine. From what I did learn and know about Ed, he was a good man that loved his family and friends very much. And they adored him. He will be very missed, even by the daughter that wishes with all her heart that she had had more time with him. I will now look forward to the day I can sit down with him after my life on this earth is over. Rest in peace, Dad. I love you.

Really, people?

I have recently been reading some articles regarding an LDS ward trunk or treat in Sandy. The trunk or treat was opened up to anybody in the community. The only stipulations were no masks could be worn and nobody was to dress in cross-dressing costumes. This caused all sorts of outrage as people considered this to be the height of discrimination. Really, people? How in the world is this offensive? First of all, nobody is making you go to this trunk or treat. Second, it is sponsored by an LDS ward and they should be allowed to set down the rules that make them comfortable. Third, do we have nothing better to find fault in than this? My family and I once went to a carnival that was hosted by another Christian church. We knew this ahead of time. There was coffee being served there and people were proselyting for said church. We did not contact the media to tell them how offended we found this. We didn't feel like they were discriminating against those who don't drink coffee or don't attend their church. We knew that we would encounter people that did not believe the exact same way we did and determined that we were okay with that. Many people we encounter in life will not believe the way we do. That is life. That is agency. We are all different. I do not believe this LDS ward set out to make anybody not feel included. As Christians, the LDS people are taught to love and accept everybody. But when you go to someone's "home", you live by their rules while you are there. If you can't do that, don't go. Nobody is making you. Move on. Find somewhere else where you can feel free to be yourself but don't go around whining because you can't impose your belief's on everyone else in every situation. Okay, rant over now.

Living with anxiety and panic attacks

There seems to be something about the end of May and beginning of June that causes my anxiety to come back with a vengeance. I wake up in the morning and the first thing I am aware of is an uneasiness and pressure in my chest. I say my prayers, read my scriptures and try to calm myself down but nothing seems to make it better. If I stay busy all day I can usually keep the panic attacks away, although I feel on the verge of one all day long. I paste on a smile when anyone is watching but when they look away my face mirrors my internal feelings of fear, worry, anxiety, panic and pain. The biggest question running through my head all day is "How can I keep myself and my children safe in case I can't control the panic any longer?" The next biggest question is "What is causing this and how can I make it stop?"

Driving is never a good idea when I am feeling overly anxious. I have had to pull over into a parking lot before just so the panic attack didn't hit while I was on the road. If I have to drive and pulling over isn't an option, I try to channel all my anxiety into my muscles. I tense up and drive with my hands like vice grips on the steering wheel. My jaw stays clenched and I "try" to think of anything except the anxiety war going on inside. And it IS like a war. My sanity is battling an unseen, unprovoked enemy and often times my sanity loses and the enemy takes over for a time. I hate those times. They make me feel weak and vulnerable. I don't like feeling that way. I don't like having to worry about being out in public and having an "attack". It's so embarrassing and degrading. It makes me not want to venture out but then I know the enemy wins and I CAN'T allow that. But, the questions still remain: why? what causes this? how do I make it stop? what am I supposed to learn from this? I wish I knew the answers. I can't help but assume they relate to the abuse from my father when I was a child. I just don't know how they relate or how to make them go away. Most days I don't even think about what happened to me as a child. I have worked through it over and over. I have forgiven my dad, although I will never have a relationship with him again. My life is good. So, why does this enemy keep attacking? What does it gain from coming back over and over again? And how to do I live day after day without allowing it to completely take over? I do what I know how to do...just keep going, keep doing what I need to do, keep praying, keep reading scriptures, keep being a mom, keep living, and keep fighting. Maybe one day the enemy will fight it's last fight and never return.

I will now take a bow...

Unbeknownst to me, my friend, Shana at momswithocd.blogspot.com/ nominated me for the stylish blogger award. (Yes, it was like 6 weeks ago but I just barely caught up on reading blogs.) Thanks Shana! I am honored.
Part of the acceptance of this award is to post 7 things about myself and to forward the award on. So, here goes my 7 things. Prepare to be amazed...NOT. :)

1. I homeschool my 5 (well 4 now since Kelea is in college) children. I know you are shocked and never knew this about me. Hehehe I LOVE teaching children, especially those that I have a vested interest in. It is my passion. Some days are better and more productive than others but every day is an adventure.

2. I LOVE music! (This is actually tied with #3.) I love to listen to music to fit whatever mood I may be in. We crank the music up in our house while we are cleaning or we listen and sing along in the car while we are driving. I listen to everything from Josh Groban to LDS music to country(like Colin Raye or Carrie Underwood) to alternative (like Daughtry) to pop (like Kelly Clarkson) to musicals (like Les Mis). The only music I don't care for is rap and anything with loud bass. Yuck! Also, music would not be music if you couldn't sing along. I love to sing along to music. That also determines whether I like it or not. If I can't sing along, it's not worth my time.

3. I LOVE to read! My newest favorite author is Karen Kingsbury. She writes Christian fiction. It is so uplifting and always has a good message. I read almost everything I can get my hands on. I really love that I can download e-books on my nook and kindle apps on my phone. That way I can always have something with me to read. This makes me happy. :)

4. I have anxiety. As far as I know I have had this all my life but I didn't have a name for it until recently. Now, I am on daily medication and it makes it better but there have been days that anxiety has caused me to struggle from paralysis (literally) and numerous anxiety attacks. It sucks some days but I am learning how to work through it. The remedy seems to be keeping myself busy and lots of prayer.

5. I am a survivor of sexual abuse at the hands of my father. This has caused me many emotional breakdowns. I am slowly working through all of the baggage from my past but I have a great support system in my family and friends and my Savior. Some of the strongest people I know have survived some form of abuse and I intend on coming out of this stronger than ever.

6. I hate...laundry... but enjoy cleaning. I should say that I enjoy the benefits of a clean, orderly house. But, laundry is not my friend. With 6 people that wear clothes that I am responsible for washing every week, we have mountains of laundry. Probably half of it belongs to my almost 6 year old, Jessica, who changes clothes as often in a day as most people do in a week. I find every excuse I can to not do laundry. I have now offered it as a paying job for my 10 year old, Zach. I pay him $3/load to sort, wash, dry, fold and put away. Now, I can concentrate on cleaning. Awww...I love looking at a clean room. Everybody wins! Yay!

7. As my blog name implies, I am a Mormon. We are otherwise known as Latter Day Saints from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. For those of you that keep telling me we are not Christian, please see the above title of our church. I am grateful, more than words can express, for the gospel and the part it plays in my life. It is my foundation. Everything important to me in my life is centered around my relationship with my Father in Heaven and my Savior, Jesus Christ. I strive to live my life in a way that will reflect their images in my countenance. I often fall short but I know that they still love me and will still be there for me. I will forever be in their debt.

There you have it-7 things about me. They are probably not big surprises. I don't really keep any of them secret (except maybe the loathing laundry). :) Now, I would like to pass on the Stylish Blogger award to one of the greatest women I know, my sister, Jan. Check out her blog at
proudmommcbride.blogspot.com

I have earned every one of these gray hairs

I am quickly approaching my 40th birthday. I know it is not politically correct for a woman to discuss her age but I am really okay with turning 40. The funny thing is that I practically curled up and wanted to die when I turned 30. I saw it as the "end of my youth" (spoken very dramatically). I am ready to reach forty with my gray streaked head held high with pride. I have lived 4 decades and I have the battle scars to prove it. While it's true that gravity is not a friend to my 40 year old body, and I have long since passed my children's idea of old, I am really enjoying this phase of my life. I feel like I am wise enough to not make some of the mistakes of youth (usually) but still youthful enough to be able to laugh at life and not always take it so seriously. Just yesterday I had to laugh at myself as I was jammin out to Colin Raye while I was cleaning the kitchen. I was sporting an invisible guitar and everything. I even laugh at my gray, almost white, hairs. Of course, I try to pull them out one by one when I can see them. Pretty soon I won't have any hairs left on my head if I keep pulling out all the color-challenged ones. :) So, to all of my friends that are slowly approaching 40, hold your head up high. You will soon belong to the club entitled "I have earned every one of these gray hairs". Welcome!