Crawling Out of the Pit of Depression . . .

I lie in bed awake . . . morning has come, but I dread getting up.  I know how I want my day to go . . . a day of productivity, of happy energy and joyful accomplishment.  But as I lie here I find myself questioning once again . . . can I do it today?  Can I choose to engage and not fall as usual.  Not fall into the constant pit of depression that so often calls my name.

I try to be an upbeat person and for the most part, others would say that I am.  I smile at everyone as I go through the stores and do my errands.  I love to joke and put a smile on the face of others.  But inside of me rages a battle . . . not just daily, but hourly.  The battle of choices.  The battle of peace.  The battle of depression.

I am not sure when I first started dealing with depression . . . I remember writing sad feelings in a journel when I was still in grade school.  Until my Mom read it and ridiculed me and told me I was too dramatic.  So then I stopped writing them down . . . too afraid she would find them.  My greatest desire is to wake up feeling at peace.  Such a simple want and yet something I have struggled for most of my life to attain.

So as I lie in bed this morning I question . . . can I engage today?  Can I make today productive . . . make it a day that counts?  So many days I wake up with that goal and then somehow I get pulled into the pit again . . . an ugly pit that confines me . . . keeps me from being the woman God intended.  I scratch at it's walls . . . sometimes I am able to climb out for just a while . . . and I drink in the short-lived peace and freedom that comes with this fleeting accomplishment.  But it never lasts.  Sometimes it is a phone call that throws me back into the pit . . . or words of friends and loved ones that just cut too close to words of my past.

This past fall I went on a crafting retreat with a gal I had considered my best friend.  I was starting to really relax and enjoy being away from expectations and responsibilities.  At one point during the retreat, I checked my Facebook and made mention to my friend of something politically that was happening at the time and how people were reacting on Facebook.  I simply thought it was interesting and made for good conversation.  My friend began prodding me to state my views on Facebook.  I did not feel called to do this and the last thing I wanted to do was stir up controversy.  She did not let it go and kept pushing me to do what I did not want to do.  To make a long story short, it became very heated and ugly.  It ruined what should have been a relaxing retreat and our friendship has been quite strained ever since.  During this time she peppered me with words that ripped me to the core . . . I was negative, I was selfish, I was a bad friend.

This has caused me to spend a lot of time reflecting and thinking about things . . . am I capable of having a close friendship?  Will friends ever understand who I am?  Can I ever allow myself to be vulnerable to a friend like that again?

As the daughter of a narcissist, one thing  I have learned to do, as a survival mechanism, is to avoid conflict at almost any cost.  In the past I have shared my conservative views and it has gotten me into trouble with those that disagree.  For many, this is not a big issue.  They do not let the views of others affect who they are or lower their self esteem.  But for a child of a narcissist, I think it is different.  Our whole life we were told we were not good enough, were told we were failures and made to feel unworthy.  Because of this we spend a lifetime over compensating.  Going to extremes to be nice, to be loved, to be accepted.  And when I am not loved or accepted, it sends me into a tailspin of self doubt and total insecurity.  I am so very grateful for my husband . . . the man who has chosen to love me unconditionally.  He is the one person that I know loves me for me.  He sees my worth.  While I am sure he sees my shortcomings and failures, he doesn't see them as defining me.  He believes in me.  Because of him I am finally starting to try things and learn to believe maybe I can do things.  I wanted so badly to be an artist as a child, but my dreams were laughed at.  "Use it for your own entertainment but don't ever think you can make a living at it," my Mom would tell me.  For many years I would watch as others passed me by, becoming the successful creative person I longed to be.

And today, I have my own business and I am pursuing taking it further.  But for ever step or two I take forward, it seems I always take one backwards.  This fall I had a nasty accident with a table saw.  I was so fortunate to have kept my fingers, but it has been a long and painful recovery.  With over 30 stitches and a rod in my finger, I was not able to be creative.  This last week I had someone get on my business Facebook page and blast me.  Since I have not been able to post pictures of my own creations lately . . . since creating was not an option . . . I had posted ideas of others.  I never claimed them for my own . . . I just thought it was fun to share creative ideas.  I also posted photos that I thought were beautiful . . . simply to bless others.  Photos of barns, and landscapes and beautiful old houses.  Most of my followers posted great responses.  But of course the one bad comment blasts loudly over the others.  This person private messaged me as well and pretty much told me I was an uncreative fraud.  Please note, I don't know this person . . . I have never met him and doubt I ever will.  Yet still, he robbed my peace.  He spoke into my insecurities.  All the whispers in my head . . . placed there by Satan but fanned by my mother, played loudly in my head.  "You are worthless."  "You are a fake."  "You don't have any talent."  I spent that day lying on the sofa, not even knowing how to function.

Some days when the depression comes on, I can label it . . . find a reason why I am feeling that way.  We have one child in rebellion that causes us a lot of pain and heartache.  Another child who wants to do the right thing, but still keeps making foolish decisions.  Our youngest, has his act together so well, yet sometimes even that will cause me distress . . . is it for real?  Is he really well grounded or will it all come crashing down someday.  Some days it is the situation with my parents . . . Dad is in late stages of dementia and quickly going downhill.  My husband's parents are also in need of care and my father-in-law has Alzheimer's.  So these things are real and can cause me stress.  But so much of my depression is something much deeper than outward happenings.  It stems from feeling unworthy,  from feeling hopeless.

So I can wallow in self pity and maybe even be angry with my Mom for making me feel so worthless.  But what good will that do?  That only adds to my problem and sinks me deeper.  When I find myself consumed with anger toward my Mom, I am overcome with guilt . . . the guilt of not loving my Mom like I should, of not honoring my parents.

I wish I had a simple answer for overcoming depression.  It is not something I talk much about.  In fact very few people know I deal with it.  I could probably get a prescription, but I know, for me,  that is just a simple way to mask the pain . . . it isn't dealing with the cause.  So I will pray fervently for joy.  For seeing myself through God's eyes and not the eyes of others.  I know this won't be something I will fix overnight . . . and in fact I kind of think this issue may always be my "thorn in my side" that I never completely overcome this side of heaven.  But  I do know I will never stop fighting it.  I will never give in to the lies of Satan.  I am wonderfully and fearfully made.  God would sacrifice His only son just for me alone.  

I do believe in the power of words.  Words can destroy.  But they can also restore and rebuild.  Where will I find such words . . . words to give me hope and a future?  The word of God!  I am not nearly as learned in the Bible as I wish.  I have a hard time memorizing, but I know God's words do not fall void.  So that is my desire . . . and maybe you, dear readers, can keep me accountable.  There is life and hope in the word of God.  We all need life and hope.  If you too struggle with this seemingly never ending sea of depression, please join me.  Get off the couch . . . grab your Bible (and maybe a cup of tea, while you're at it) and begin drinking in the words of wisdom and truth.  The words of hope and peace.  

I wish for you peace . . . the peace that can only come from God.  Turn to Him and His promises . . . and His life giving words.  Getting out of bed now . . .

With love and blessings,

Aydan

The Happy Narcissist . . . Or The Great Dillusion

I was talking to my Mom this morning on the phone.  My Mom is not a happy woman.  She is filled with bitterness and anger.  She is nice if it is to her benefit . . . knowing how to manipulate things to work for her good, but she is NOT happy.  So today, she was laughing at and making fun of a blog post I did on a separate blog I do, about happiness.  In my blog, I mentioned that I have only ever known three people that I would call "truly happy" . . . I was not talking about a shallow, temporary happiness, but more of a deep-seeded joy.   I believe this happiness only comes from living a life that is focused on the Lord and not ourselves.

She kept giving me examples of why she is such a happy person . . . examples of teasing my Dad or playing a joke on someone.   No examples of a joy that perseveres through any and all circumstances . . . not because of where we are in life, but because of WHOSE we are in life.  I certainly did not want to get in a fight about whether or not she is happy, for crying out loud!  But she is only happy when she is the center of attention.  When things are going her way.  And, since her expectations are greater than any of us can ever meet, she is rarely "happy".  Most of our lives growing up were about trying to please and appease Mom.  Trying to keep her from exploding and going on a tirade about something.  She was very explosive and we grew up with threats such as "I should just kill myself" on a regular basis.

My Mom wants to be seen in a certain light . . . she wants people to see her as some kind of amazing saint . . . someone who always puts others before herself, someone full of love and compassion.  She wants to be seen as beautiful, fun and exciting.  And, she truly acts like that is how she sees herself.

At 73, she still flirts with waiters and even men in our church, that don't remember her on the rare occasion she attends with me.  She tells us about neighbors and various other people that "made moves" on her.  She is aged and a bit overweight.  Not necessarily ugly for a woman of her age, but certainly no one who will still turn heads.  But in her mind she still is.

She tells me on a regular basis how "kind and loving" she is.  The people that I have known in my life that are truly kind and loving, do not have to brag about it.  In fact they never do.  Because their motives are pure and they are not seeking anything in return.  My Mom still uses an example of helping her neighbors.  This was for a short period of time she went down and visited a few times.  When the neighbors passed away, she befriended their children and had them believing she had been Mother Teresa to their parents.  For many years to come, they would give my parents free access to their ocean home for a couple of weeks each year.  They did this as repaying my Mom's great service to their parents.  But in truth, she had only stopped by to visit a few times.

The day in, day out woman I have known for my entire life is a bitter woman.  She makes fun of her children for having any dreams or desires of their own.  She can occasionally say something sweet to one of us . . . but only as a way of manipulation.   I look at her and I see a woman who is very unhappy.  In fact, after thinking about this, I do not believe a true narcissist, such as my Mom, can ever be happy.

Our happiness comes from God . . . He is the giver of any and all peace we have in this life.  While we may have fleeting moments of happiness based on circumstances, true deep-seeded happiness . . . or joy . . . can only come from the Lord.

Currently, my life, from a human standpoint, does not make me very happy.  I have happy things in my life . . . a wonderful caring husband, a beautiful setting that I am privileged to live in everyday, three beautiful children and even pets and chickens that make me "happy".  But I also have a child in rebellion (perhaps I will share about that a bit more in the future), and another one who is kind of "sitting on the fence" . . . kind of playing out the Romans 7 dilemma . . . knowing what he needs to do, but doing the wrong thing instead.  On top of that, we are dealing with my Dad's dementia . . . it is in the later stages and he is requiring more and more care . . . which means my Mom is expecting more and more of me.  Melissa lives a couple of thousand miles away, my older brother lives across the state and my little brother, though he helps out a bit from time to time, has never really taken on the responsibility at the level I have.  I am not sure if it is because he is a boy or if it is because he has the "youngest child" mentality or maybe, he has just learned to set better boundaries.  But anyway, on a day-in-day-out basis, I am the child she depends on and expects from.  I have no problem taking them shopping, to Dr. visits, etc. every week.  When Dad had an aortic aneurysm three years ago, I was there every day for three weeks straight . . . trading off 12 hour shifts with my brother.  If there are true needs to be done around the house for her, my husband and I are there.  But her expectations go well beyond need and into want.  Sometimes frivolous or unnecessary wants.  Their home was brand new when they moved in six years ago, so it is by no means a fixer upper. Yet she tells me often how she "needs" me to paint an accent wall for her, how she needs yet another rose or tree planted, etc.  I really don't mind sometimes doing the extras if there is time, but I do hate when it is expected and not appreciated and when I am made to feel guilty for not making her home the priority over my own.  But, that is another post for another day . . . my point is, I feel pressure from Mom that makes a "happy life" challenging to say the least.  

My Dad has taken a definite turn for the worst in the last few weeks.  His brain seems to have difficulty telling him how to do the most basic of things . . . such as walking, going to the bathroom, etc.  I truly believe he is down to his last year, if not only months to live.  I want to be there for him and my Mom.  But it is so hard.  Mom has such unfair expectations and says such mean things.  I understand that she is going through a hard time right now, so while yes I can give her some grace because of it, her meanness and unfair expectations existed long before this trial.  

But what keeps me struggling to tread water . . . and to find peace and happiness . . . is my fears.  As Melissa just shared in her last post, we grew up with many fears . . . fears of never being good enough to please our mother . . . or others, as she made us feel so very inadequate.  With the days until crisis with my Dad, drawing nearer and nearer, I have lately been experiencing what I guess are panic attacks . . . my heart starts racing and I am overwhelmed with a feeling of dread.  It is not a dread of losing Dad, as terrible as that seems.  I think I have been grieving the loss of my Dad for several years now . . . the man remaining is just a shell of what he used to be . . . his mind ravaged by the terrible disease of dementia.  No, my panic comes from thinking of the days, months and years to come in dealing with my Mom.  I am 50, Mom is 73.  Realistically she will have a good ten years or more left here on earth.  Can I deal with her making my life hell for another 10 years?  Should I have to give up my "good years" for her?  Will she ever let me experience joy with my own family in the years to come . . . when we someday welcome daughter-in-laws and grand babies into the future, will she allow us to bask in the joy of that, or will she have to continually pull me down and make me feel guilty for choosing to be happy?

My panic is actually keeping me up at night now . . . in fact, I am typing this at 4:00 a.m because I am unable to sleep.  I want peace.  My only goal for 2014 is to live a life of peace and to eliminate as much stress as I can.  So far, at day 5, I am failing miserably.

So what is happiness?  It certainly isn't what my Mom seeks.  It has nothing to do with the things you have or even the things people do for you.   It isn't even about having the perfect life or perfect family.  One of the women I shared about in my other blog, was a sweet woman who lived a life that by most human accounts would be considered miserable.  She lost her husband while in her 40's to a genetic disease.  A few years later that same disease took her one and only son.  She lived in poverty in one of the worst neighborhoods in town.  She was riddled with arthritus that twisted her joints and bones and caused her extreme pain.  Yet there was a happiness . . . a deep joy . . . in that woman that went so deep . . . something I have rarely found here on earth.  Everytime I saw her, even in her last days while in a wheelchair and extreme pain, she would declare, "God is good!  I am so blessed!"  Because to her, being a child of God was enough.  Knowing God created and loved her gave her happiness.  Having been allowed to be the wife of her beloved husband and the Mama of her only child, she counted as a blessing.  She was thankful for the little she did have . . . thankful not to be hungry and to have a roof over her head.  And when it was time to go, she was happy to know it was all worth it.  She is in heaven now, reunited with her precious loved ones and I believe being rewarded for a life well lived.

So maybe I need to rethink my goal for 2014 . . . and for always.  Maybe it isn't so much about being stress free, as it is about finding true peace and happiness.  I know peace comes from the Lord.  I know only He can give me the true joy I desire.  I say I am his child.  I believe in Him . . . now I need to truly believe.  Believe that He loves me beyond measure.  Believe that he wants me to live in peace and that He will walk with me through my fears of the months and years to come.

So today I choose peace . . . I choose to believe.  I do not believe living a Christian life is simply a matter of going to the alter one day while the choir sings "Just as I am".  I believe it is a daily walk . . . a daily choosing to consecrate everything . . . give it all . . . to God each day.  So I give my fears to the Lord today, I give my guilt and my anxiety, my resentment and anger all to the Lord.  I can't control the future . . . in fact I can't even see the future.  But God knows all my hours and minutes.  So this fear . . . that has taken such a stronghold in my life and the life of my sister Melissa, is not only keeping us in a place of anxiety and unrest, it is also keeping us from truly being happy.  From truly finding joy.  As Melissa shared, fear is not of God (you will soon come to see she is the smart one who is able to share all the Bible verses relating to these subjects. . . . I just know they are there but have a hard time remembering the addresses as well).  So if we are truly focused on God . . . on letting Him be in control of our lives, fear can not rein.  And if fear is gone, what replaces it . . . peace . . . joy . . . happiness.

Go in the Lord . . . in peace, joy and happiness!

With love and blessings,

Aydan 

The who, the what and the why . . .

Welcome to our first blog post!  My sister Melissa made the mistake of allowing me to set up the blog, which means I was the one who jumped the gun and posted first! So, since I am going first let me spill the dirt on my sister tell you a little about ourselves.  We are two sisters. living far apart from each other who only recently found reconciliation with one another.  We were raised in a very dysfunctional home by a mother who was and still is a total narcissist.  We are not talking just a little bit "self absorbed" but rather a true NPD (Narcissistic Personality Disorder).  Our growing up years were very hard and we were basically raised to have all our focus be on our Mom.  Any personal dreams, desires or aspirations any of us children might have were viewed as selfish and stomped out immediately.  Since she wanted the focus to always be on her, she did not want us being close as siblings.  She would actually do things to pit us against each other. We have two brothers as well . . . perhaps she didn't view our relationships with them as threatening, as I didn't feel she undermined those relationships as much . . . though I know if we were closer now as adults, she would have an issue.

Over the last couple of years, Melissa and I have definitely seen God working in our lives.  Helping us to identify what is truth and what is a lie, what is conviction and what is misplaced guilt.  We have realized we were never allowed to be the sisters God created us to be and are now trying to make up for that . . . at ages 50 and 55. We realize now how much we have missed out on.  While we are still grieving that loss, we are excited for our future together and look forward to many years of bonding time together.  Our reconciliation has not been met with joy by our mother, but we know it is right and believe God is bringing us back together.

Because of our upbringing, we have had many difficulties in relationships . . . we were shown an unbalanced example of marriage, where the woman dominates and belittles and the husband cowers.  We were shown manipulation and dishonesty.  Because of this, our marriages have suffered, our children have suffered and we have had difficulties in friendships.  Our self esteems have been destroyed and loving ourselves has been difficult.  But we are not without hope.  In fact we are overflowing with hope . . . we are daughters of the King . . . princesses, really.  He loves us unconditionally.  He sees our hurts and wipes our tears.  He tells us we have worth and value.  We are still on this journey . . . still finding healing, seeking love and trying to find forgiveness.  We are unfinished.  We are raveled and frayed.  But we are excited to see what God has in store for us as He brings us through this journey of restoration.

Over the days, months and years to come, we will share stories of hurt, pain and anger.  We will also share how God is helping with that.  We will share about our families both growing up and now . . . our marriages, our children and all the aspects of our lives that have been affected by growing up as children of a narcissist. We won't pretend to have all the answers or to have it all figured out.  But we pray we will give you hope, give you a glimpse of the grace of God and let you see that, regardless of your situation, you are never truly alone.  Thank you for joining us . . . please stop in often . . . let's share our hearts, our tears, our hopes and our blessings together.

With love and blessings,

Aydan