Self-Actualization

So, something you should know about me from the start...I am yet to figure out where I fit in this world. I have spent my entire life searching for my space, my place in this world. But I think the trick (at least for me) is that I don’t fit. I don’t fit in a box. I am not a “type”. I don’t have a lane…except for the one I created for myself.

 

Please don’t mistake this understanding as any level of wisdom or enlightenment. I still long to be a part of some group. I still want to “fit in”. And I believe there will always be a part of me (that 8^th grade girl that didn’t have a clique, maybe?) that wants to be part of the “in” crowd (did I just date myself?).

 

However, I have come to the realization that many of the dreams and hopes I was raised on are not necessarily meant for me and that is not necessarily a bad thing.

 

I believed that by now…42 years old, I would be married (check), have my family (check), be living in my “forever home” (not check), have a successful career (semi-check), and be financially stable-or at least not be panicking about the bank account on a weekly basis (also, not check).

 

Instead, I am a grieving mother, the wife of a man (whom I love deeply) who deals with multiple mental health issues, mother to 2 beautiful and broken teen-aged girls, a suicide survivor (in the sense that I have survived the suicide of my son), a baby-loss mama, I don’t own a home-I don’t even really like the home we live in. I pay several bills late-every.single.month. I spend more money on things that most people would not understand (mostly horses, but that is another chapter).

 

And that’s okay. At least that’s what I tell myself on the good days.

 

I was raised to believe that there is a formula and straight-line definition for success in life. Do well in school. Get a higher-education degree. Get a good job. Get married. Have children. Invest. Retire.

 

Well…that is clearly not the path my life has taken. And I am learning to be okay with that.

 

First and foremost-let’s address the elephant in the room. My 15 year old son committed suicide by shooting himself in the head in my bathroom.

 

Let me explain something about trauma. Once the absofuckinglutely unthinkable, impossible, unrealistic, shit-that-happens-to-other-people happens to you ALL BETS ARE OFF. Along with grief, you live in a state of constant hyper-vigilance because you know…I mean YOU KNOW, literally anything can happen. The absolute WORST CASE SCENARIO has become a reality and now you (and your loved ones) are safe from absolutely nothing.

 

It is exhausting. 

 

Okay, some other things you should know about me….

 

·         I was raised Southern Baptist.

·         My husband has a bachelor’s degree from a Christian university.

·         I swear like a sailor…except in front of my parents.

·         We do not attend church; we no longer have a church home.

·         I am still searching for what role God plays in my life right now…I am not even sure what that means.

·         My parenting style could best be described as “but did you die?”

·         I am doing my best, along with my husband, to parent 2 teen-aged girls who have experienced more loss and trauma than most people experience in a lifetime.

·         I give them grace…a lot of it. Maybe more than I should.

·         I have several chronic illnesses that sometimes make it hard for me to do the things I want to do.

·         On top of that, I suffer from anxiety and depression.

·         I am fiercely protective of my family. When you have experienced the type of loss I have, you will do whatever is necessary to protect what you still have. Translation: don’t fuck with my kids or my husband. I will cut you.

·         I have multiple tattoos and intend to get more…a lot more.

·         I spend a lot of time at the barn…A LOT OF TIME. But I do it because I want to give my girls every opportunity to pursue and achieve their dreams.

·         Our method of homeschooling is more unschooling right now…and I am okay with that.

 

So now you know me…or at least some basic foundational facts about me. One last thing…I have no filter. None. At all. So if you are going to keep reading, buckle up, bitches!

Deep Dive Background

I actually had a life before I was married with children…I know-stunning.

My childhood was both VERY traditional and rather non-traditional.

 

When I was 18 months old, I was adopted by my biological mother’s sister. Let me pause right here to say that my “adoptive” mom is my real mom. She raised me, she loved me, she set a wonderful example of what a wife and mother should be. There is no question of who my real mom is…not ever.

 

Don’t get me wrong, I will forever be thankful for the choice that my biological mother made to give me up for adoption. I didn’t truly understand that sacrifice until I had children of my own.

My adoption was rather non-traditional. I knew my biological mother and also eventually my biological father and his parents. My relationship with them was…complicated.

 

I grew up in a safe, happy and stable home. My parents provided well for me-and not just financially. They set a wonderful example of what a good marriage looked like. They taught me so many life skills (some of them I even actually use in my life now). But, mostly, they made sure I knew I was deeply loved and wanted.

I could talk about wonderful memories of trips to Disney World, ski trips, vacations in the Caribbean, sailing trips and amazing holiday parties every year. And those are truly special memories. But what I have carried into my adult life is the example that they have set for me and the fact that they put so much effort into making sure I knew I was chosen by them to be part of their family.

Being an only child had it’s benefits…and it’s downfalls. I was raised mostly around other adults and, therefore, tended to connect better with older kids-most of my friends were 2-5 years older than me.

 

I also developed a refined palate at a young age. My mom did not cook a separate meal for me, I ate what the adults ate. There was no ordering from the kid’s menu at restaurants and I was not allowed to refuse to try a food I had never eaten, I had to try it-at least once. But now, I love all kinds of food and look forward to trying new things. I am willing to take chances, not just culinary chances, but chances in life.

Things I learned from my parents:

·         Life is tough, but I am tougher

·         In marriage, your spouse ALWAYS comes first. Even before your children. Fight me.

·         Anything worth having is worth working for

·         It’s important to plan ahead. But don’t consider your plans written in stone, you have to be flexible because you never know what life will throw at you

·         Integrity is everything. You are nothing without it.

·         Always honor your word.

·         Think before you speak. You can’t un-ring the bell and you can’t un-say the words.

·         Sticks and stones may break my bones…but words can also cause pain.

·         Words can be healing or dangerous…make sure you use them for the former.

·         Love is expressed in many different ways, life is not a Hallmark movie.

·         In the end, love is everything.  

Finally....aren't my parents pretty amazing??

 

F

F

A Little About Me

It's been a while since I have posted on here, so in case you don't know my story...here are some of the basics.

I grew up in the same house in Virginia for 20 years. I met my husband in high school. We married when I was 22. We had our first child when I was 24. I wanted 3 children before I turned 30. We had our youngest child 6 months before my 30^th birthday.

We owned a home in Virginia. I had a good job. My husband owned successful business. We had 3 vehicles that we had detailed weekly. We had a housekeeper come every week. We remodeled our home. We hosted parties. We went to church.

 

And in 2009, we picked up and moved 300 miles away to North Carolina for my job.

We sold our house in Virginia and rented one in NC. My husband sold his business. We had no family near us and virtually no friends. We struggled and sacrificed those first few years in NC.

 

But if we had stayed in Virginia. Living our perfect life. The life everyone said we were supposed to live. We would be divorced by now.

 

In 2012, we built our dream home in a small, rural area of North Carolina. It was going to be our forever home. We both had good jobs again. Our children were in private school. We had the “American dream”.

 

In 2014 my husband lost his job. Later that year, I quit my toxic (despite the excellent pay) job with no back up plan. We started homeschooling. We lost our home. We moved 3 times in 2 years.

 

I found work as an independent contractor in 2015. My husband found another good job. We found a new home in 2017. We found a new circle of friends. Things were moving in the right direction again…right?

 

Nope. I was sick, very sick. Money was always tight, regardless of how hard we tried to budget and save. Our son was sick. Sicker than we ever understood. Less than 1 year after moving into our new home, he was gone. A bomb had gone off in our lives and nothing would ever be the same.

That was 3 years ago. 1/2/18.

 

But I have learned, slowly, to stop chasing that dream. That’s what I was really doing, trying to keep chasing the dream. The house, the family, the dogs (oh yeah, did I mention there are dogs...we are up to 3 now, but that’s another story….), the illusion of financial stability, the important career path, even our circle of friends.

 

My goal now is not to chase…money, people, jobs, approval, any of it. My goal is to slow down. Let life happen and play the had I have been dealt to the best of my ability. This is not a permanent place for me, but it what I need to do right now. I need the dust to settle so I can plan my next move hopefully applying some things I have learned from this roller-coaster life.

Collateral Damage

 So. It's been a minute.

Okay. More than a minute.

So here's what's been going on. What no one tells you about losing a child. What nothing can prepare you for and I, personally, have no idea how to recover from.

Collateral damage.

Friends vanish. Or slowly fade away.

I have plenty of online "friends". Lots of people that comment or like my social media posts. Some that even text or message. I have a few that I even see in person on occasion...mostly my amazing barn family.

But I don't have consistent, meaningful interaction very often. In fact, it's incredibly rare.

A meet up at a coffee house. A cup of tea at home. Lunch. A simple home visit. I am desperate for these interactions.

Another lovely side effect of trauma is that you are always waiting for the next bad thing to happen. Once the absolute worst possible thing has actually occurred in your life, all bets are off. Anything is possible, and not in a positive sense of the word. 

I find myself constantly going directly to the worst case scenario. I constantly fear for the safety of my living children. 

The final unexpected side effect (at least for us) was financial.

Yep...this is going to get awkward. I am going to talk about money and how experiencing trauma can negatively impact your financial stability.

If we are being honest here, we would not have survived 2019 without the help of my parents and some wonderful friends. Job loss, poor decision making (a common side effect of grief), and piles of medical bills sent us into a downward spiral.

Thankfully, we are slowly, but surely, recovering. But, experiencing that time of instability, of not always knowing if we could keep the electricity on or even properly feed our family, has led to hyper-vigilance when it comes to our family finances now.

The hardest of all of these, for me, is the loneliness.  I am not one to reach out. It is hard for me to put myself out there for fear of being hurt or disappointed. But, I desperately need the human contact. I need to spend time in the company of friends. I need that face-to-face interaction.

So, if you know someone who has experienced loss....don't give up on them. They may be quiet. They may even be cold. They may seem closed off to the world. But, they are just protecting their shattered heart.

-m 

The Bitter End...or the End of the Bitter

So first I must tell you, in the spirit of full disclosure, I opened my laptop and almost logged onto my work e-mail.

See, work is an escape for me lately. It's easy. There are no difficult emotions, No hurt feelings. It is just business for me.

I also must confess that I have stayed off the blog for quite some time because I had started to feel like people didn't care to read what I had to say.

However, I have something I desperately need to say to whomever happens to read this.

This 11 month journey of grief since losing our son on 1.2.18 has been the longest, hardest path I have ever had to walk.

I have questioned my faith.

I have questioned my marriage.

I have questioned my life.

I have questioned my sanity.

I have spoken before of the loneliness that comes with grief. In the beginning, friends and family and even strangers are there to support you with meals and cards and phone calls and home visits. But after a while that tapers off, sometimes rather abruptly.

Don't worry, this is not another post about how lonely or abandoned I have felt (although those things are true).

This is a confession. A confession of my bitterness towards those who I used to call "friend" or even "family".

As I struggled through this mess of grief and sorrow, I grew bitter that so very few were willing to reach out to me, to us. I was hurt that my phone didn't ring or my calls and texts went unreturned or unanswered. I didn't understand why people were always too busy to find time for us or include us.

But, I have decided this has to stop.

It doesn't make any of those things less hurtful, but by not allowing them to control my emotions, I takes away their power in my life.

It is the end of my bitterness.

There are people who have stuck by us through every step of this journey so far and continue to love and support us. You know who you are, and we are so grateful for you.

And if you are one of those that have fallen out of our lives, that's okay, too. Sometimes the grief, or just our spicy family, is too much.

Blessings,
Meri

For Better Or Worse

"I, Meridath, take thee, Rick, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and obey, till death do us part, according to God's holy ordinance."

18 years ago tomorrow, on 9/30/2000 I said these vows to my husband having absolutely no idea what life would have in store for us.

We have seen the better: 3 beautiful children, a home, friends, family, vacations, holidays with family.

We have seen the worse: The loss of a child, miscarriage, the loss of a home, friends that have drifted apart, family members aging and getting sick or passing away.

We have seen richer: I have learned to define "richer" in more than financial terms over the course of our marriage. We are rich in love, rich in friends, rich in family, rich in faith.

We have seen poorer: We have struggled to pay bills. We have had to ask for help. It has been hard during those times, but our love prevailed.

We have seen sickness: Chronic illness, surgery, a motorcycle accident. Most of our marriage one of us has been sick, but our love prevailed.

We have seen health: 3 healthy pregnancies, days and sometimes weeks when my chronic illness is in remission. We have learned to enjoy the healthy moments more because they are few and far between.

Love, cherish and obey: I specifically had 'obey' added into my portion of our vows. I know it has been popular to leave that out, but my understanding (limited as it was at that time) of biblical marriage was that a wife is to submit to her husband. I find it an honor to submit and obey and I feel cherished and protected when I do so.

Till death do us part (yes, there is a joke in here about our last name being Death....but that's for another post): We agreed many years ago that the "d" word (divorce) would not enter our conversation, no matter how angry we were with one another. I cannot say that we have always held true to that, but we have done our best and recognized when we have let things get too far out of hand. We both took our vows very seriously and truly believe that our love will last even after death.

According to God's holy ordinance: I have to thank two very special couples that modeled biblical marriage for us, even though we didn't think we needed that at the time we wed.

First, my parents-they have been married over 50 years and I am grateful to my father for showing me the type of man I should seek for a husband and to my mother for showing me how to be a respectful, loving, patient and submissive wife.

Second, Perry and Emily Crouch.  Perry was the Youth Pastor at the church I grew up in and also the officiant at our wedding. I remember going through the pre-marital counseling classes and being told that, while he was not sure we were ready for marriage, he would go ahead with it anyways. Looking back, I learned so much from watching their marital relationship at church. I am also so grateful for the love and time they poured into me as a rather, um, difficult teen...

We have been married 18 years, but we have been together almost 25. 

-High school graduations

-Long-distance college

-Job changes

-Loss of grandparents

-Marriage

-4 pregnancies

-1 miscarriage

-9 moves, 2 states

-Loss of a parent

-Illness of parents

-Chronic illness

-Vehicle accidents

-Loss of a child

These are the things our marriage has weathered and I know there are more that could be on this list. It has not always been easy, in fact-it has rarely been easy. But, the "better" is all about perspective. The good times are not about everything being perfect, but rather about being with the person that is perfect for you. 

Blessings,
Meri

The Truth About Death

Recently, I heard that a young lady that my daughter rides horses with lost her mother.  This girl is still in college, too young to have process this kind of pain.

But, here's the thing....I have no idea what to say to her or do for her.  And I should know.

I have been grieving for months. I have had my life torn apart and scattered to the far corners of the earth and I have spent 8 months trying to find those pieces and put them back together.

I should know.

I should know what to say to her.

I should know what to do for her.

I should know how to be there for her in this time of unimaginable pain.

But, all I can think of is those silly, kitchy things that everyone says when they don't know what to say....

"She's in better place"

"If God brought you to it, God will bring you through it"

"Everything happens for a reason"

"You are strong, you will get through this"

But the truth is that death is a thief. It steals a part of our soul and we cannot get it back.

The truth is you will always carry the grief with you, but it will eventually get lighter and easier to carry.

The truth is there is no reason good enough that would ever heal our grief over the loss of a loved one.

The truth is death sucks. Every single thing about it just plain sucks.

Blessings,
Meri