Time to get Spiritual

April has been a month of soul searching.

After my panic attack I finally took the advice of my friends and asked for help from a professional. At my yearly physical from my primary care provider, I brought a sticky notes full of things to bring up to him. At the bottom of the list of concerns was my depression. So I brought it up. I told my doctor that I had been feeling more down and had been considering talking to someone.

He took me seriously. He asked if I would like to meet a psychologist attached to his practice that was in my network. I said sure. He literally left the room to go grab her. He came back in with her a few minutes later. She introduced herself and told me a little about what she does. I appreciated her vibe and felt comfortable with her. She then told me she had an opening after me doctors appointment. Talk about fate. I of course said yes. I got my blood drawn and checked in to see her moments later.

I never thought I would cry so much. My first appointment I told her everything that had been leading up to my panic attack. Everything. It kind of just spilled out of me, all of my pent up troubles and the tears with it. She told me she was glad I finally asked for help and that she believed she could help me. She diagnosed me with major depressive disorder and anxiety.

I now am seeing her biweekly, and weights have been lifted off my shoulders.

On top of that help, my work has helped me.
Not in my usual manner of avoiding real life by working too much overtime to even have time to myself to think. But in the fact that my work offers a retreat twice yearly that helps you realize your spirit. I’m only halfway through and it has been eye opening. I am so thankful that my work has this program to better the souls of their employees.

Lastly, I am starting to meditate. I am literally searching my soul for what I need to do to heal myself from the inside out. I have learned that I struggle with accepting love. I shied away from the meditation instructions of breathing love in and negativity out. I wasn’t ready for love yet. Instead I envisioned the sun. I could accept warmth. So I closed my eyes towards the sun and breathed in its warmth. I exhaled the negative. Afterwards I reflected on the images that came to me. I had seen a bare tree. I was at the bottom of it looking up. I saw autumn leaves bright against the ground in a dark puddle. I reflected on this with my sun warming and gathered that I needed to let go of the leaves that have fallen. Those leaves, though beautiful, are part of the past and are no longer a part of who I am. So I need to let them go. I needed to use those tears that go with those memories, the puddle if you will, to cleanse my soul. I need to use the puddle to quench my roots to help me grow. Then, as my roots ground me, and dig deep into my soul, I can turn over a new leaf. Let my me take in the positivity from the sun and grow.

I have also learned of my safe space that I need to escape to mentally. I pictured a room full of books. I am holding the book of me in my lap while sitting in a large comfortable chair. I realized I was letting other authors try to write who I was. But this is my story. I get to choose how my story makes me me. I envisioned ripping out the pages of others words. I regained the strength to be in charge of me. Then someone I love walks toward me. That person is my current boyfriend, Jody. And I get a sense of everything being o.k. He is smiling at me and I smile back. And as simple as this whole thing sounds, it was so profound to me.

So, in moving forward I am going to open my soul to what I need to do internally to heal. I am hoping that my healing will help others heal as well.

In this month were the storm clouds roll in and the rain pours, take the time to observe what storm clouds are troubling you. Then let the rain fall from your eyes to cleanse your soul. It is spring. April showers, bring may flowers. I can’t wait to see what I bloom into next month. Bloom with me!

I wear red lips, because...

April is the month that I wear red lipstick every day.

Why?

For a campaign to raise awareness called Red My Lips. I support this global campaign that raises awareness about sexual violence and combats victim blaming.

I wear red lips, because when I was hitting puberty in fifth grade, I had an older man check out my ass. My step dad was furious and insisted that I no longer wear clothing that goes above my knees. I also wasn't allowed to wear any makeup. I had to change my appearance. It was not my fault and I was not asking for it.

I wear red lips, because in high school my class went to New York City and a man grabbed my ass on the subway. It was not my fault and I was not asking for it.

I wear red lips, because a girl I used to babysit, was assaulted by her step father that always creeped me out. It was not her fault and she was not asking for it.

I wear red lips, because at my first job I tried to be friends with a guy. His family invited me to his birthday party. I was the only non family member there. I was his surprise birthday present. When I told him I wasn't interested in him romantically after he touched the small of my back at work one day, he went off on me. He stalked me. It was not my fault and I was not asking for it.

I wear red lips, because at my next job an employee I was training asked me to dance for him and tried to follow me into the bathroom. It was not my fault and I was not asking for it.

I wear red lips, because I know someone who was bullied. The bullies told him he was gay and held him down and shoved a stick up his butt. It was not his fault and he was not asking for it.

I wear red lips, because working in health care means that my breast and ass will get grabbed. That I must accept inappropriate comments. I understand most aren't in their right mind, but their subconscious thinks I'm less. It is not my fault and I'm not asking for it.

I wear red lips, because on my first ever vacation, I got separated from my group after a night of drinking. I searched frantically for a safe area, not behind hotel rooms. I found the pool area and passed out on a patio chair. My phone had died. I woke up to a security officer with his tongue down my throat and his fingers inside me. I came to and shoved him off of me to roll over and vomit. I did not get a good look at him, I did not scratch him for identification, I vomited. I stumbled back to my room. Later that day when I met up with the others and told them what happened, they were slow to believe me. I tried to report it to this family resort. What if I hadn't woken up? The language barrier has me believing no justice was served. I am still scared of going places alone at night, and get anxiety around security. It was not my fault and I was not asking for it.

I wear red lips, because I recently met a woman who had escaped sex trafficking. She feared for her life. It was not her fault and she was not asking for it.

I wear red lips, because I could go on and on with people I have crossed paths with in life. It is not their fault and they were not asking for it.

I wear red lips, because every 98 seconds an American is sexually assaulted. And every 8 minutes, that victim is a child. Meanwhile, only 6 out of every 1,000 perpetrators will end up in prison. Other statistics are just as sad.

I wear red lips, and it's hard. I normally don't wear lipstick. It is a very bold color against my pale skin. It gets everywhere. It doesn't stay pretty. However, every day I have to live with my past. Every day more are affected. This is a bold statement that needs made. The word needs spread. It isn't pretty. It needs fixed. Fault needs put on the right place. And the right questions need to be asked and answers need to be heard.

I wear red lips.

Will you join me?
Tomorrow?
This week?
This month?
Next year?

I will wear red lips until April showers bring word power. Red my lips. Read my lips, my words matter.  

Easter: What is this holiday???

Today is Easter.
Happy Easter!

But I'm sitting here wondering what this day means to me.
I had to work last night, and I work tonight.
I don't have kids.
I sit here and think this holiday would be so much more enjoyable if I had kids of my own.
But why?
What am I celebrating????

See, I lost my religion a while ago. I grew up going to church every chance I got. I volunteered on Sundays to get to go in earlier. I'd come in Sunday nights and Wednesday nights for youth church. I studied my bible and tried to do everything right.

I believe my religious views helped push me into my marriage by me trying to do the right thing. Even though my pastor didn't want to marry us.

After I was married I drove through town to the hospital to visit my grandpa so he could see me. That was the man I wanted to walk me down the aisle. He was my rock.
Not long after that he died.
The man who prayed for hours every day.
The man who was the next best to the pastor.
The man whose voice on the answering machine asked those who called if they had Jesus in their hearts.
He had to go to soon.
Not long after I had a lady at work asking for me to help kill her. And I broke. Why did my grandpa have to be taken when he wanted to live? This woman would have gladly taken his place. I tucked her into bed and tried to kiss her goodnight with reasons to wake up the next morning.

My faith as I knew it left a sour taste in my mouth. My life fell apart after I tried following all of societies rules. Organized religion is no longer for me.
In church I learned other religions were wrong.
In college I took a world religions class and opened my mind and my heart.
I am spiritual, but not religious.

So I sit here today and wonder what Easter means to me.

Jesus rose again from the ultimate sacrifice of death.

Maybe I need to rise again. I sacrificed so much of myself in my past to please others. I was like a zombie. Performing acts to say I did them, none of them really making me happy. Maybe today I should recognize that I don't need to sacrifice my happiness. I am putting myself out there to share my struggles. I am seeing a psychologist to get help. I can let go of my stronghold on failure. I can take it as a lessened learned and grow from it. I can be renewed to who I want to be every day if I want to.
Finding eggs could be finding those reasons to hope. Finding the sweet joys that make us happy. I can decorate hard boiled eggs to show what Hopes I am wanting to create for myself. The Easter bunny could be leading me to a teatime celebration with loved ones, friends, and family. New life will be celebrated surrounded by those I want to be my best self with, those who will help me be my best self and I will help them be theirs. Filling baskets full of things I want an abundance of for my loved ones.

That sounds good to me.
Easter this year was a dinner with a best friend and her parents. She definitely supports me being my best me, and I support her as well. I worked, but another of my best friends was there for lunch and breakfast, she also supports me being my best me and I supporting her. Work is helping me move forward towards my goals. I am getting help to move past my past that killed my spirit. I want this spring to help my rise again and be able to smell the spring flowers and smile.

Easter can mean something to me now.

I hope your Easter is everything you want it to mean to you!!!

Happy Easter!!!!