Waiting for today...: March 2014

"In plain English, stress early in life makes us more vulnerable to stress la...

"In plain English, stress early in life makes us more vulnerable to stress later in life. The evidence for this can be seen in multiple physiological an... - Nyawela Gianna - Google+

Saturday, March 29

Friday the 28th: Sigh...



Arched walkway at The Capitol in Washington D.C...



Having a surprisingly difficult time getting back into writing not having written in almost a month.  No fret however: my mood is flying high and I’ve got plenty of pictures to share.  Most importantly,  I haven’t lost sight of my purpose.


Counting down to my schedule change.  There’s so much that I want to do that my schedule just will not permit right now.  That is, without sending me into another depressive mood.  
Seven days…


Those things that I need to do?... are getting done 90-95% of the time.  

I’m Miss Brightside!


As a child, I remember being fascinated by everything around me.  I took to drawing early, trying to capture those things.  My earliest remembrance of this fascination is from elementary school.  Instead of paying attention in class, I went about trying to recreate a design I saw on a hand-woven bag.  My creativity has waxed and waned since then.  As I grew up and became aware of cameras, my interest shifted from drawings to photos.  It never evolved beyond pointing and shooting however.  And just as I lost my passion for drawing and “less than amateur” photography, I lose my desire to write from time to time.  I am almost certain it is related to my instability.  So on days like this, when I’m speechless and lacking or time simply eludes me, I’ll share instead one of my photos in hopes to somehow keep my diminished creative flow from dying altogether.


Monday, March 24

"But Those Who Trust..."


Ben Franklin bridge and Camden Waterfront from Penn's Landing in Philadelphia Pa...




In the face of unnecessary criticism, I will either shut down in defeat or lash out in anger. Both responses harm the psyche and damages all chances of having a healthy relationship. While this weekend was about the women building relationships, there was criticism, staring me down and trying to persuade me once again that my way was the wrong way.  All eyes on me, my lack of confidence naturally attempted to appease our guests.  Though I allowed myself to feel the pressure, to be flustered and to show my instability in effort to stave off defeat and anger.  Shame on them! I’m tired of hiding.  A sister stood up for me and reminded our guests, in so many words, that it was my time therefore I had a right to use my discretion.  I was disappointed once again by those that claim Christ but, unlike times past, I was not drained of my faith in Christ.  I was instead reminded that, just like Christ, there are those that indeed seek the righteousness of God rather than their own.  Instead of losing hope, by them I ought to be encouraged to do the same.


As a child, I remember being fascinated by everything around me.  I took to drawing early, trying to capture those things.  My earliest remembrance of this fascination is from elementary school.  Instead of paying attention in class, I went about trying to recreate a design I saw on a hand-woven bag.  My creativity has waxed and waned since then.  As I grew up and became aware of cameras, my interest shifted from drawings to photos.  It never evolved beyond pointing and shooting however.  And just as I lost my passion for drawing and “less than amateur” photography, I lose my desire to write from time to time.  I am almost certain it is related to my instability.  So on days like this, when I’m speechless and lacking or time simply eludes me, I’ll share instead one of my photos in hopes to somehow keep my diminished creative flow from dying altogether.



Wednesday, March 19

Sunday the 16th: Hello Spring!


King Neptune statue at the oceanfront in Virginia Beach Virginia...



We’ve had more rain that sun in these parts lately and because I typically like to take my showers indoors, my venturing outdoors have been on a need-to basis.    

As my most recent bout of depression has run it’s course, I’m anxious to get out into the sun and walk around my neighborhood with some tunes or a camera.  As spring rolls in, I don’t expect the rain to cease but the 30 degree weather? Please…   

I find myself in the middle of an eventful week as I try to tackle my neglected to-do list whilst preparing a presentation on women’s health for the upcoming weekend retreat organized by the ladies of the congregation.  To my indefinite surprise, we will have guests from the congregation that formed as a result of the split.  

An essential piece of my wellness is to ditch the negative thinking.  But I have also vowed to carefully inspect and be honest about my feelings.  So, to be honest, I’m not sure about the above.  

Nevertheless, if it is in God’s will for us to fellowship, I can either expect the worst and begin my brooding now. Or I can rest in His perfection and trust him with my well-being.  I choose to work toward the latter.


As a child, I remember being fascinated by everything around me.  I took to drawing early, trying to capture those things.  My earliest remembrance of this fascination is from elementary school.  Instead of paying attention in class, I went about trying to recreate a design I saw on a hand-woven bag.  My creativity has waxed and waned since then.  As I grew up and became aware of cameras, my interest shifted from drawings to photos.  It never evolved beyond pointing and shooting however.  And just as I lost my passion for drawing and “less than amateur” photography, I lose my desire to write from time to time.  I am almost certain it is related to my instability.  So on days like this, when I’m speechless and lacking or time simply eludes me, I’ll share instead one of my photos in hopes to somehow keep my diminished creative flow from dying altogether.



Friday, March 14

Thursday the 13th: Missing Home...


Dawn over the Delmarva Peninsula...



In moments of miscommunication, I’m apt to slow my racing mind, focus on the message and express it confidently when a person is patient and seeks clarification before allowing themselves to be swept away into snap judgement.  

Because of true love, a lost message was recovered from a recent and dreadful breakdown in communication between my mom and I.

And apparently, I was never alone in my thoughts of relocating.

Meanwhile, in my part of the world, I feel tossed to and fro as I try to keep my mood stable and make it through a bass-akwards work schedule this week.  

Hoping that the second week of April and long sought after changes is that light
I see at the end of the tunnel.



As a child, I remember being fascinated by everything around me.  I took to drawing early, trying to capture those things.  My earliest remembrance of this fascination is from elementary school.  Instead of paying attention in class, I went about trying to recreate a design I saw on a hand-woven bag.  My creativity has waxed and waned since then.  As I grew up and became aware of cameras, my interest shifted from drawings to photos.  It never evolved beyond pointing and shooting however.  And just as I lost my passion for drawing and “less than amateur” photography, I lose my desire to write from time to time.  I am almost certain that my lack of creativity is a symptom of my depression.  So on days like this, when I’m speechless and lacking, I’ll share instead one of my photos in hopes to somehow keep my diminished creative flow from dying altogether.



Sunday, March 9

Missing Home?


The Florida Theatre in Jacksonville Florida...



In the last year or so, I’ve often had the radical idea of relocating closer to my mom. I say radical because the process of relocating at this stage in my mental wellness efforts seems counterproductive; self-sabotaging even.  That reality was revealed due to a recent breakdown in communication between my mom and I.  The communication centered on my self-discovery process: specifically, revisiting my past in effort to find the source of the continuous self-destructive pattern I’m in.  The unexpected outcome forced me to realize that while we’ve taken so many steps forward in our relationship, being geographically closer, at this point, may stifle our progress rather than cultivate it.


As a child, I remember being fascinated by everything around me.  I took to drawing early, trying to capture those things.  My earliest remembrance of this fascination is from elementary school.  Instead of paying attention in class, I went about trying to recreate a design I saw on a hand-woven bag.  My creativity has waxed and waned since then.  As I grew up and became aware of cameras, my interest shifted from drawings to photos.  It never evolved beyond pointing and shooting however.  And just as I lost my passion for drawing and “less than amateur” photography, I lose my desire to write from time to time.  I am almost certain that my lack of creativity is a symptom of my depression.  So on days like this, when I’m speechless and lacking, I’ll share instead one of my photos in hopes to somehow keep my diminished creative flow from dying altogether.



Tuesday, March 4

Putting the Pieces Together: Where I Am, Part 2



… my personal breakthroughs and relationships


My therapist really hit a nerve during one session.  She asked me what I was getting out of holding on to all the resentment and bitterness.  I thought that she was inferring that I was to blame for my misery; as if everyone that has ever hurt or disappointed me didn't have to be accountable for their actions.  Just the thought of it made me angry.  Except in that moment, I didn't suppress that anger and I came to realize I was actually angry at myself for denying who I was in order to be accepted by all those people.  I wanted to belong so badly that I became whoever I had to in order to avoid rejection.  Years of thinking that I was not good enough and trying to be someone else resulted in an ambiguous identity and a poor self-concept.


Easily influenced by the majority, I am in jeopardy of a co-dependent mentality ruining future relationships. But I’m not too hard on myself.  I cannot be responsible for the adults in my life that had the responsibility of helping me to channel my anger, of encouraging me to establish my own identity, of helping me to foster a positive self-concept as a child.  Not completely upset about the seasons of disappointment, however.  Whether I like it or not, they have added favorable aspects to my life.  I’m just grateful that I have come to realize the damages sooner than later in order to heal and forgive.  And I’m so eager to learn!

To foster an identity and a positive self-concept, I have to pay attention to how I feel and get used to trusting my instincts, my experience and my logic to formulate my own opinions; and be confident in them.  When I do look to other people for advice, I cannot internalize their opinions and beliefs as my own and make decisions based on them. People can have their opinions but I can cordially disagree.   Coming to this conclusion has helped me to open up about what I’m going through and not worry about being understood and validated; both of which I’ve had a strong need for up until now.

… my faith
If the greatest commandment is that of love (Matthew 22:26-40), I don’t feel very loving.  At the height of my irritability, I stayed away from the assembly.  I had to be honest with myself: I just didn't have the energy to push through my misery anymore and I didn't want to be a stumbling block to anyone.  But, I've been avoidant of personal worship as well, which means in addition to not participating in the breaking of bread, I have not been living by the word of God and praying; all of which Christ taught.  After a few weeks of absence, I realized that my being easily influenced is a direct barrier to my relationship with God.  There’s no sincerity and truth (John 4:24) in following Christians instead of following Christ.  The first step in a person’s life who would desire a relationship with God is faith (Hebrews 11:6).  Where is my faith?  Once again, I found it in people.  But faith comes by hearing the word of God (Romans 10:17).  Thankfully I have begun to read His word again.  I have yet to return to my personal studies but I am eager to begin and from scratch.

… my career
My hours: the thorn in my side, still suck.  Worse, lately, is alternating between the ER and the hospital.  It’s great to break up the monotony from time to time but not spending a significant amount of time in the hospital makes those days long and seemingly unproductive.  I expect things to get better, however.  We are continuing to roll out a software program that will make documentation more thorough but less time consuming.  In addition, my hours will be changing to twelve hour shifts which means more days off during the week; more leisure time and more time to learn my craft.  Because I’ve just been existing and not living, I haven’t been taking advantage of the free learning opportunities available to me.  I’ve been in case management for 2 ½ years but there is still so much to learn.

… conclusion
Where to from here?  I‘m starting over from square one.  I’ve done a good job breaking through the walls of victimhood that I’ve burrito’ed myself in for the last 20 years.  Next is the task of trying to make sense of it all.  As I go through this process, I know that not everyone in my life will be supportive.  But that’s okay.  That’s what boundaries are for. And I will define and redefine boundaries as needed.  No regrets.
“Depression” (2) con’t: …When I’m at home, that is in Philly, I am an almost different person.  When I was in Virginia, I was not myself.  It was wonderful.  Then who is the real me?  Is she hiding or is she who I see every morning when I look in the mirror?  This will soon become my mission: finding… my true self, so that I can start living. ~ December 2005

Well it’s about damn time…