Hold My Hand...We'll Get Through This Together.

He told me to hold his hand. "Just hold onto my hand, and relax. Just hold on and breathe and let it pass. This will pass. And you will make it through. Just hold onto my hand." It was the same comforting message that he gave me when I was in the midst of an anxiety attack. When my emotions would well up inside of me and become uncontrollable staccato. Jerky breathing and movements. Unable to get a good gulp of fresh air. I would pinch my eyes shut as tightly as possible and feel his hand in mine and breathe.

It's no wonder that I'm having these feelings so much right now. I am at a precipice in my life. And beyond this point is the unknown of my life. Nothing will ever be the same again. But I'm glad to have someone kind and gentle to remind me that if I just hold on, that this will pass, and I will make it through...and he will hold my hand the whole way. Thank you. I needed that. 

Aug. 14th, 2009
2:24 AM


Woke up in the middle of the night consumed with thoughts of Joshua. Felt stressed and anxious. Wanted to take another bike ride but decided that it was too late to be safe. Had to take a drive with the dog to just calm down. Felt better. Felt ridiculous. Was glad that I had a dog who loves me no matter what. Unconditional love is a nice thing to be on the receiving end of. Crept quietly into the house. Noticed how nice the hallway looked. Noticed the lovely new bike I have. Felt the new bike happiness all over again. Noticed the bathroom and how nice it looked. Felt proud of myself for working on the house finally. Enjoyed listening to my mom's cute little snore. It's like a tiny little "snorb" noise. You can barely even hear it. But I love hearing it because it gives my heart peace, to hear her calm and safe and at rest. She sleeps with the light out now. Ever since she came back from physical therapy. They turn everyones lights off at night. And since she had gotten used to it, I decided to *not* reintroduce the night light. 


The dog made herself comfortable in my room. I decided to keep the dog tonight. I think I need her more than my mom tonight. I wish she'd put on some meat, but I love her scrawny bony butt and all. 


Still having a hard time relaxing. Took a night time sleep aid since clearly my anti-anxiety medication isn't working. Decided that I *was* glad after all that I did not cancel my appointment tomorrow with the Dr. Turns out that I still need to see the Dr. I need to relax and get a grip.
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I Wish I Felt Safe

• Aug. 10th, 2009 at 6:48 AM

I'm not feeling well mentally and emotionally. I woke up stressed out today. And I felt like I truly needed to take some time off of work just to be home and get it together. Perhaps go see my doctor and get my anti-anxiety medication altered. But then I thought about all of the stuff at work that needed to get done, and how I don't want to be considered *flaky* or *unreliable* and I decided that I *had to* go in today. I looked around at my life and realized that I was no longer a kid. There was no one there to shelter me or protect me when I felt broken and vulnerable. When I was younger, it would have been my mom. I could have let it all fall apart and she would be there for me. She would say something like "You are the most important thing here. They will understand. Call in, take some time off, and go see your doctor. It will all be alright, you'll see." And it would. I would feel better just knowing that she was there. But now, I feel like I have to suck it up and push through it because I need my job. I need to provide stability for my family. And when I have time, I can fall to pieces. So I better get through the work week and do it on my own time on the weekend. I hate feeling like this. I wish I had one week off of work to sleep and be depressed. To hibernate in my bed and forget all of my stress. To cuddle up with my mom in her bed and just pretend that she is well. I wish I had another week after that to clean my house and get my life in order after I recharge my battery with a week of hibernation. So far, it looks like I have an hour before work, and I need to spend half of that time with my mother. I can do this. I need to do this. I am calling my doctor.

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Not Afraid Of The Dark

March 31st, 2009; 1:29 AM

Current mood:surprised

Something monumental just happened. My mom has had a night-light ever since she got really sick. She's reverted in a way, to a very sweet and innocent child-like state. She needs the light to give her comfort at night. It makes her feel safe. The only times she hasn't had the light were on nights when I would sleep with her...and then I would turn out the light (because I can't sleep with the light on) and I would have to reassure her that she was going to be OK...and that I was right here....and remember how before she used to sleep without the light on...and nothing happened? And it was safe and comforting no matter what? Light on or off? And then she'd agree and hold my hand and then eventually drift off to sleep. Well tonight, I was tucking her in one last time, and before I went she said "Honey, you can turn that light off. Will ya?" It wasn't just *what* she said...it was *how* she said it. *The voice that she used when she said it.* It was just like before. She used her adult voice. Her Mom voice. It was a glimmering moment of how she used to be. Not to mention something totally unusual and wonderful. She *wanted* the light off. It was like she had forgotten alltogether that she was afraid of the dark! I can't tell you how wonderful that is for me. I love my mom so much. This is just a really great feeling. So she's asleep. In the dark. Content, and safe, and happy. And soon I will be too. :)

The First Easter Without You

Last night was rough. I don't know why that is? George mentioned something once about how sometimes in the night...it's almost like a demon just gets up and gets a hold of you. Making your fears, your pain, your failures all seem so much more magnified. But that it's all just an illusion. And if you can hold on till morning. Just take some time to sleep and relax and refresh yourself...in the morning, everything will be much clearer. Things will be all right. Grief fades, love grows.

I found your old Easter basket from last year. I remember how much I loved putting it all together. Finding just the right ribbon...the right bunny. And stocking it with *your* favorite things. Not just the typical Easter basket fare. I put in a big glass jar of Planter's peanuts, and some smokehouse almonds. I remember how your eyes would light up and you would smile. "Whachagot?" And how I would come in to check on you later on and find you happily munching away going through your basket of goodies. I remember the joy it gave you, to share with me. And how you would give me *one* peanut at a time. Like a mama elephant feeding a baby elephant. :)) You could go on merrily like this for a while, Until I finally said "Thank you." "One more." You'd say and place another peanut deep into the cup of my palm. I love how you expressed your love so effortlessly in everything you did. In words. In the way you lovingly smiled and looked at me. In your contentment and joy. In the peace you brought to my heart.

Find Yourself In The Middle...Keep Looking...You're There Somewhere!

So much of my life right now feels like searing pain. Unfortunate circumstances have led me here to this place, where I feel utterly alone. I know that I am not alone. In fact...I have many people who love me. I have a wealth of amazing people that I call friends. Good people. Who have been here for me in the most horrifically dark period of my life. And family too. I still have that. Not the people who raised me, it's true. The heart, the core three people are missing. But *I* am still here.

I miss you.

Every once in a while it wells up inside of me, and screams through my soul.

I miss you. 

It still hurts. I try not to feel the pain. I try my best to be fine...

Ron gave me a talk this week.

He said on one side, there is depression. And even though it's not that good for you or that great...it can make the pain of what I am going through fuzzy. Sort of like crawling into bed and wrapping myself up with blankets and sleeping. The pain is still there...whatever is causing the pain is still there...but for a while I can drown it out in my depression. I can sleep and avoid the searing pain.

On the other side there is this rose-colored glasses thing I do. Where I try to be happy and optimistic no matter what I am facing. He described it as:
Q. "How are you doing?"
A. "Oh I'm fine. I lost my right arm. It got tore off and I'm bleeding. But I still have my left arm so things are great! But you know...this is really good because it gives me a chance to make my left arm stronger."

It made me laugh. I know that I do that.

And somewhere in the middle is my Buddha nature. I am going to chant to the gohonzon as if it was a mirror...and to chant to be able to see my Buddha nature. Not just to develop my wisdom...but to be able to see it in myself. Being a Bodhisattva is easy enough. To stretch myself to have compassion for others is something that I have developed quite well within myself. But to make that leap...to move one step higher than that, and to not only extend that compassion to myself but to also be awakened. To see the world as it is. To see my problems for what they really are. To see my fortune for what it is. The people that I treasure. The profound gifts that are within myself. To honor myself and see my Buddha nature, and interact with the world around me from that place of joy, love, splendid happiness and wisdom. Confidence. Not the fake happy where I try to diminish my pain or challenges. But something genuine. Where I am really myself.

It is hard to imagine a me, that is really me...that can move mountains.

I have been living my life going through the motions. Saying inside "Fake it till you make it." Holding tight to my vision of what can be...while the reality of my situation keeps getting worse. I know that I will keep going through the motions. "Trying." But what if the world continues to crumble? As long a I am alive I have the power to *manifest* things. To *manifest* real changes in the world and in me. For that reason alone, I will keep walking through this fire. I will keep *trying* until *trying* falls away and becomes *doing*.