I just wanted to bring you home, and give you all your normal comforts. I wanted to give you chocolate, shrimp chips, some new pet rats, and all the art supplies my bank account can buy. I wanted to hug the pain and disappointment away, but I know you do not like hugs. I wanted to make you better, but I know that is no longer in my realm of capabilities.
You have always been such a shining star. You have inspired me with your kindness, your creativity, and your bravery. Even when you have felt like none of these things, you have been these things. You are an amazing person, and do not want you to lose your spark, you worth, and your passion. I hope you know what we are doing, is so that you are given the best life possible. So that you can achieve even your wildest dreams of dog sledding in Alaska, going to Russia, and even loving in the mountains somewhere surrounded by rescue dogs and rats. Because, nothing is too far fetched, nothing is impossible once you have the care you deserve.
It's so quiet without you. As much as the chaos is hard to deal with, this new reality is hard as well, You're to blame for nothing. You tried your hardest for a long time, you gave up some times. You said you do not like how your brain works, and how you sometimes behave. We know it's not your fault, yet we are humans and would get overwhelmed. For that I am sorry, sorry that I did not find out how to get you the best care sooner. Dad tried, he really did and that's why you are where you are. So that you become the best you.
In the end I want you to know you are loved.
Love,
Mom AKS he lady who yells "Make Good Choice!"
"And sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to describe them in.”
In June of 2004, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl with the blackest hair, and fairest skin. She came out on her own time, which like other things in life, it was fast and took me by surprise. She walked very early and talked very early. She ran before she ever attempted to crawl, she climbed without fear. She learned to ride a bike on the first try. She has been gifted in any art form she has tried. Her big chocolate eyes have always seen the smallest details in everyday life.
For a long time, she was my buddy. She trailed my aprons strings and skirt hems. She like to wear my headcoverings, hats, and wrap herself in my scarves. She would sneak the reddest of my lipsticks, and ask me to read her "Goodnight Moon' in the middle of the day. Her favorite song has always been Brooks & Dunns, "Cowgirls Don't Cry'. She loves horses, and has always asked for one. I wish I had already bought her one. She has gone to horse camp and has had riding lessons. She is at home up there on the saddle, a natural with no fear. Which, to me is beautiful. The girl who had no fear for so long, she is now riddled with fear.
When Astro was four things began to change. She started talk therapy with the most amazing therapist we have ever had. We were there weekly for an hour long session, it often went over. She had been seeing shadows and spirits. They had been talking to her. Some of the things she whispered to her dad, they were pretty frightening. Things improved. No real diagnosis was given as she was so incredibly young. Her therapist vanished after the death of his grandson. We scrambled to find a provider that would work with someone so young. There was gap in her mental health care, however her pediatrician always kept herself updated on ways to we could help. Since there was no diagnosis there was no medication.
When she was about seven or so she started with a psychiatrist who said she was possibly bipolar but would not say so defiantly. He treated her with medication that worked. She was doing well, for a long time. She saw him every month, until she didn't. His office closed and we were again without care. It took a couple of years for us to find someone new, the same person still sees her to this day. There have been periods where she has felt amazing, and like a regular kid. The hope had been that once puberty hit, her hormones might level her out. But, it only amped things up. The outbursts became worse, anxiety became a series of seemingly unstoppable roller coaster rides. Her psychiatrist started changes meds to better help her. We found her a new therapist, who she really never connected with. The school found her a new one, she connected.
At age 11 she had her first psychiatric hospital stay which was during a long bought of severe depression. A depression that had her not eating, bathing, and trying to keep her room as dark as possible. She had made a habitat in her room for her to hibernate. Those are her words. When she was there less than 24 hours she showed signs of hypomania. She was given several diagnosis', none of which we really confirmed. They read like a list of symptoms. She entered a partial hospitalization program. Things never really got better, they just leveled out for a period.
Over the last year she has become more erratic, more destructive to herself, property, and the people around her. We have all tried to help her. She started feeling things crawling on her skin, hearing voices and sounds. She tore the mirror off her wall, and took apart the wall behind it. The mirror apparently has spirits, the room is haunted, and there was something in her wall. None of which are true. She started disassocating and wandering. She was often found barefoot in the neighborhood, confused and unafraid. Her psychiatrist tried getting her into a few local hospitals with no luck, adolescent beds were always full. Heartbreaking.
She is now in a psychiatric hospital. She had psychosis, and tried harming herself while she was disassociated. Her dad stopped her in time, took her to the local children's hospital emergency room. They found her a spot within an hour from home. She has surpassed her 72 hour hold. She still there. She is still hearing voices has had a few outbursts when someone called her, "retarded". She has Aspergers and the word triggers her. She was pacing the floors when we were there last night. The staff is wonderful. Her condition is so bad she can not have a roommate, she can only leave her room for process group.
Right now it looks like her diagnosis has a high possibility of being schizophrenia. She is awaiting a bed in a long term residential facility.
We have relief in that she is getting great care, and our hearts are breaking. The house is incredibly quiet, I lay in her bed yesterday and sobbed, I sobbed for relief, I sobbed for the loss of the girl we once knew.
"Why must we suffer? Because here below pure Love cannot exist without suffering."
Sometimes, sometimes I just need to slow down and see where I am standing. See how I am standing. My head gets busy, my body gets busy and my chest vibrates. My shoulders and back tense. I know I need to slow it down. I know I need to stand tall and now I will get past all that lingers in my mind and my heart.
Some day I feel like all those labels, and traumas follow being me like a cape. It's not pulling on me, but it will furl and wrap around me and remind me of why I am the way I am. Why I am going through such a hard time. These things that haunt me have changed me and continue to change me day by day. Some days I am changing moment by moment.
This morning, I awake in a sweat with a feel of being strangled. Then I monitored my heart as my heart rate jumped over 30 beats and I did my breathing exercises. Slowing my heart rate back to normal. Falling back to sleep was hard and I awoke to my husband asking me if I wanted to drive him to work. My body was already vibrating and tense. This is my life right now, and hopefully not forever. It took so much energy to focus and make breakfast. Then I rested, and watched TV with the kids who were in the room with me. I took my meds and was able to relax so that I could get dressed. This should not be a struggle. Yet, here it is.
Right now I am pretty much homebound because of the weather not agreeing with my heart. I am blessed though that I have an air conditioned home, so that I can move about when my body allows me. In my home I have my music, my art, my books, and my family. In my home I have support and I have my dog Ryan Gosling. Yet, a lot of me years to be back on the trails and out in the sun moving my body through sand and soil. My boots long to get dirty and have the tread worn down. Soon, I am sure soon I will be back in my former life.
One thing I wish is that I had visitors or phone calls. Or someone who wants to meet up in a cool place with parking close to the door. What I do not want, is what I probably need....a temporary wheel chair. When I do go to the VA, now if I go to a store it's safer for me to be in a wheelchair. However, I do not have one. I don't want one....right now I just want peace in my mind and soul.
“Never be in a hurry; do everything quietly and in a calm spirit. Do not lose your inner peace for anything whatsoever, even if your whole world seems upset.”
Tomorrow my oldest child will start his adventure into the real world outside of our home. He is an 18 year old young man, who has always amazed and surprised me, he has broken my heart and mended the wounds. Life with him has always been an adventure, and his new path is something we are all excited to hear about.
There is so much I could tell you about this young man. He was the first child I was able to carry to term, and for awhile I thought he would be my only natural child. When he was put into my arm, I swore off baby talking. I read him books everyday, sang him songs, and recited poetry to him. We listened to music of just about every genre from every age I could get my hands on to. I took him on walks, runs, to libraries, on city buses, and to see many people.
We have visited museums and parks. We have visited doctors and hospitals for both physical and mental health problems. We have gone through the process of IEP's, assessments, and diagnosis'...and nothing has stopped my heart from loving him. When he graduated high school at the age of 17, my mind flashed back to this little verbose kid who would tell everyone he met everything he knew about JFK, dinosaurs, and the space race. He talked politics, philosophy, and religion with an elderly neighbor. He is not that little kid anymore, and his topics of interest have changed a bit. He will give us talks on how geography has changed due to war and migration and how that relates to a country's flag.
I wish and hope the best for this guy and he starts his journey with the California Conservation Corps. tomorrow.
Dexter,
If you ever see this....know I am very proud of the young man you have become. I am very proud of you for stepping out of your comfort zone. You are stronger than you know. Life is an adventure and I will follow your trail from a distance. I just want you to be happy and enjoy life in a way you may not yet know exists.
Love,
Mom
The happiness of man on earth, my children, is to be very good; those who are very good bless the good God, they love Him, they glorify Him, and do all their works with joy and love, because they know that we are in this world for no other end than to serve and love the good God. - St. Jean Marie Baptiste Vianney, the Cure of Ars
Sometimes a creeping sadness sets in. Sometimes I roll around in it for a bit and sometimes I try to fight it off. Usually, these episodes revolve around my feeling worth, worth of love, life, possessions, friendships, and even worth of feeling good. By feeling good, I mean more than just mentally. I mean physically and spiritually.
When I was growing up, I feel I was made to feel unworthy of things. Not just by adults but my similarly aged family members. I feel like I was always fighting for love and acceptance. My views on love, and what love entailed were and still are askew. Pain, sadness, separation, begging, loneliness, abusive submission, and manipulation were what I saw of love. Not just was is considered an eros type of love, but an agape love.
As I entered my teen years, I saw women were seemly there for men to control and to use as his need to be met. Women's needs and desires, they often took third place behind the needs of men and children. I tried to fight against this, to not be some object of desire yet, I deeply wanted to be desired and mostly to be loved. Be loved for who I was and who I would become. But, did I deserve that type of agape and eros love? What made me special? There were constant reminders that I was not beautiful, that I was smarter than a man would like me to be. So I was in a constant state of not knowing if I would ever find a love that complimented me. I was also unsure that I could love someone the way I wanted to be loved. Really, these thoughts still hold valuable real estate in my brain and in my heart.
I pushed a lot of people away. Afraid, afraid of the pain that would be inevitable. Afraid, afraid of being loved so much that I would bot recognize it as true. Even now, 19 years into my marriage I often feel like the rug will be pulled out from under my feet. You know, like it has been a big joke....like I am dog earred page in his life, in an old comfortable book....and he was just waiting for the long awaited sequel. Possibly this is all very irrational and possibly, this is all true,
I know my worth in not in my relationship. But, it has a way of shaping my view of my worth. We wax and wane in where we are in life. Lovers, friends, house mates, caretakers....strangers. We were once young, struggling, full of possibility. We were once, healthy and thin and active. Right now we are older, struggling in different ways, and not quite who we once were. We are different as a couple and in many ways different individuals.
A lot has to change in me. I am working on my worth. I am working on what I see in myself that is of value. What can I offer the world, outside of my selfish needs. So much of me wants everything I love and have a passion for to also be what he ha s love and passion for. At one time we has the same passions and desires....not so much anymore. My prayer for him is that he finds his.
"Lord, grant that I might not so much seek to be loved as to love."
Life is up and down, like hiking on a familiar path with unexpected peaks that take your breath away. When you move forward and gets your boots broken in, something or someone puts a thorn in your foot and you have to get off trail. That is how life has been for me. Life was going in a long and I was going slowly uphill, when I lost my footing and lost my breath.
My heart is broken, and not in sense that love has been lost or love has left. In the sense that right now I am wearing a heart monitor for two weeks, and hoping that the episodes are temporary. My spirit is tired and it's often so much to just get ready at some point in the day. Routines and rituals are a required part of my self care. The physical thing with my heart is messing with my mental state more and more. It's as if, it's vortex wherein my anxiety raises my heart rate, and my hear rate raises my anxiety and back again.
Since I was 12 I had worried about developing some sort of heart problem. My maternal grandfather suffered a heart attack. Worry around that always lingered in my mind, mostly in the background. So when I started experiencing these SVT episodes, my mind wandered off into the worst things that could happen. Mostly worrying I would suffer a heart attack at home alone with my kids. What would that do to them? I have some young ones still, and older ones that are riddled with their own anxieties already. Do I really want to add to that because I have been neglectful with myself, or have worried myself into this predicament. So may unknowns, and so much out of my control. Life was easier when it was easier for me to go with the flow.
My worry became more intense when a few years ago my cousin, who was just under a year older than me suffered a heart attack and had two subsequent strokes. Yes, I know I am not my grandfather nor am I my cousin....it's just thinking I have needed to change, and WILL change. baby steps. baby steps. baby steps. Anita, you will be okay....you are not the people who have suffered and left big hand prints on your heart. Your life is your own, even when you draw the lines of similarity.
I have produced a lot of tears lately. Often, I get upset that I am so emotional. Growing up having emotions seemed like they were off limits. Sharing emotions and feelings was not allowed. One parent seemed to only show anger. The other parent seemed always on the verge of being vulnerable to feelings. Step-parents who held me at arms distance. So, when I feel feelings....I sometimes fell like my body is morphed into this young girl with long black braids who is getting yelled out for talking about the things that were going on, that perhaps should not have.
My heart is is recovery in many aspects and burns with passion.
”Watch, O Lord, with those who wake or watch or weep tonight, and give your angels and saints charge over those who sleep. Tend your sick ones, O Lord Christ. Rest your weary ones. Bless your dying ones. Soothe your suffering ones. Pity your afflicted ones, shield your joyous ones. And all for love's sake.” – St. Augustine of Hippo
Hello, my name is Anita, sometimes it's Nita...sometimes it's Andie, sometimes it's Button. More than often it is Mom or Mommy. Even, then it's sometimes Anna. My husband still calls me Rios.
With all that being said, I have to admit there are many layers and faces to this face. Some time ago I was diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder. Shortly after that I was hospitalized with Type 2-Diabetes (which I no longer have but, continue to fight). After I was hospitalized I was so traumatized that I never returned for mental health care, I somehow thought the stressors of bringing up trauma made me sick. In some aspects I was right, but really I just made excuses not to get care for fear I may never be the same. The fear made be believe I would sink into a person that I no longer recognized and that my family would not recognize nor accept. Fast forward some years....and here I am battling that traumas that haunt my mind and heart with every breath I take. When little noises, scents, and sounds play pictures in my memory as if I was still actively living them. It's a struggle not to sink into one of the "stronger" or more "courageous" versions of myself. All I want is to just be the "me" I was meant to be. With every breath I try to find that person outside of the trauma, and I can say I have not found her. I do not know if she exists the way I want her to.
I will be starting therapy and other mental health care through the VA soon. Little by little I have been meeting with my social worker, who by the way is pretty awesome. Some of the questions leave me stumped because, I do not know how to answer them without breaking down. Then I go home and things resurface and I wonder if it's relevant to my process. I want to stop being this walking human ball of emotions and be set free. I offer my pain and my process up in prayer for those people who can not get help, who are so lost and without support. As a Catholic, I feel that my suffering will lead to healing even if not my own.
I am working on my art again. This helps me process my thoughts and my emotions. In my head I compose poems that help me heal.
Sharing this is pretty scary to me. There are already friends who seems to have distanced themselves from me because of my anxiety and PTSD. For the most part I like to think it is not on purpose, but just some sort of way of protecting themselves from the unknown. Right now I am praying that my diagnosis is incorrect and if it's true...that my storm will run out of rain gracefully.
Sometimes you need to take long walks along, or seemingly long. My anxiety has been bad. It was triggered by a smell. You never know what will upsetting during these periods. Right now as I type this I am even having some anxiety, it's always on the edge of my chest burning across my shoulders and making me afraid. Afraid I will have super ventricular tachycardia again. I had it early Wednesday morning and had to take my anxiety pill, know it was triggered by that smell.
I am constant fear of my heart giving out from stress, sadness, and fighting the good fight. The periods of anxiety seems to have their seasons and I dread them. I am on edge and it's hard to breathe or function on some days. That is not who I want to be.....
Yesterday I went on a small 1.56 mile hike out in San Timeteo Nature Preserve. It was a nice day for it, sunny but cool out. I saw a few birds, and I stood by the creek for awhile and watched the parachute seeds glimmering in the sunlight, being blown through the air. It was magical like what you seen in those inspirational quote pictures, or in a movie. I could of stayed there all day long, had I planned on even going. Two yogurts will not sustain you, even will a gallon of water.
I have come to the realization I need therapy again, I stopped going a few years back when I didn't like everything that was being brought up. It was too intense for my with having Tanni so young, and the kids seeing me so upset. So very upset. Jimmy was working so far out of town that I couldn't drive to see him, I could barely drive home. My eyes were always welled up. But, I know this battle can not be fought alone anymore, and with help and encouragement I might be able to make it through this period without much damage to my life. Meaning, without resorting to locking myself inside my house again afraid to leave. I am already pushing myself, but I just am not doing as much as I was....I really just can not. In my heart of hearts I wish I could.
My husband promises to get me out on the weekend to Mass and to nature if I can not make it during the week, those two things are healing for me.
Jacket in Athleta- Goodwill $4.99
T-Shirt- Mill Creek Visitor Center $forgot Skirt Skirt Sports- Amazon $35 when I bought it a few years ago
Leggings Lularoe- $gifted Shoes Keen- Amazon $83.97
Hat- Antique Store $6.99
****I am an Amazon Affiliate***
To purchase and Skirt Sports items with a 15% discount go to www.skirtsports.com and use code: 762RIOS
This weekend was pretty amazing. I have had a lot of time outdoors. I took my youngest four on a spontaneous trip to Oak Glen into the snow. We played at Los Rios Rancho, and Oak Glen Conservancy. The youngest two had a great time sliding around in their snow pants. I am so lucky that we found the pants at our local Goodwill. It's always cool when you can save money on good gear.
Yesterday, I volunteered at the local farmers market with my master food preservers program. It was great to get a chance to get to know the two people I was volunteering with, outside of class. One older gentleman is such a sweet guy. His wife is super nice, as well. They brought all the supplies for the booth.
The lady who was there is older, and gives me hope for my future, so long as I stay active. She is going to do Machu Pichu this spring. I really hope I get to see some photos from that. You know, all the adventure isn't just for the young. I have hope that I will do some great adventures as I get more into my 40's, and hopefully until I die when I am old. My dream is to get my husband, and my kids into adventuring and exploring this world. But, I am going to teach them now to leave their mark on our natural world in a way that destroys.
I think about death a lot. Not in a way where I want to die, but in a way in which I would like to be remembered, what I want to do before I die. How to leave a legacy of adventure, and overcoming fears. My life as I have gotten older, has become a series of fears real and imagined. Really, I hope my kids will remember me as trying new things, loving life, and taking on my fears. I know they will know I love God, my friends, and of course I really hope they will know I love them. My kids have been my everything for so long. So much so, that I forgot about me, I forgot about my husband. I was always just a mom. Not that being a mom is a bad thing, I love being a mom....more than I ever imagined. However, one day there will be no kids in the house...and I need to learn to do things alone by myself, with friends, and of course with my husband.
I choose adventure, it is helping me with my PTSD. I was diagnosed with it about 4 years ago. Something triggered some serious anxiety, I went and got helped. Realizing that you need to take care of yourself, or more so that you have not been taking care of yourself is hard to swallow. Following my diagnosis I was diagnosed and hospitalized for Type 2 Diabetes. It was rough, and I needed to get my life in order. For a long time I was doing really well, then I had a series of losses. My heartbreak had me giving up, when I really just wanted to be outside moving my body. My mind kept me inside, afraid. Afraid, of doing something dangerous or even seemingly normal that would take me away from everything. But, I know my grief was too much for my heart. I ended up in the ER with SVT again, and I couldn't be swayed to leave my house.
I know these people would not want me giving up, and living in fear. One person in particular loved hearing about my adventures. She was my best friend and sometimes my worst enemy. My cousin Rosalie, complications for Type 1 Diabetes took her from us. She wanted so badly to get well, get a kidney, and start her own adventures. She told me she lived in fear for too long, afraid of what others would think of her. She told me that her being mean to me in our youth, and even adulthood was her jealousy of my being unafraid. Yet, her death gave me the biggest fear and now it gives me the strength I need to push myself.
My childhood friend Patricia fought cancer for a long time. She was a great cheerleader to my family. Her and her wife were always kind to my family, and big supporters of my oldest daughter. She loved adventure, her family, and mostly her wife. There is more I can say, but it's hard right now. Why? Because, she was just so young. She was a fighter and even though we were not terribly close, I know she would be there if I had really needed her.
I am brown. I am fat. I am pushing past my PTSD.
My heroes are forever young: This is for you Rosalie Lara Siever, and Patricia Elmore
