All My Mistakes

I have some "friends" they don't know who I am

So I use quotations around the word friends

But I have a couple that have always been there for me.

All My Mistakes by The Avett Brothers

 

 

If you know me, you know that I love music.  You should also know then, that I love The Avett Brothers, especially their older stuff.  So, it's no surprise that this weekend while I was driving through South Carolina, North Carolina, Virginia and Tennessee I had my iTunes playlist "Happy Place" playing in my car.  As I was driving, the song All My Mistakes came on.  I normally skip over this one in the car, since it's slower and heavens knows I don't need any other reason to feel tired while I am driving, but this time I let it play.  I listened to the words as they came through my speakers and I felt them resonate with me for two reasons; 1. The title and 2. The lyrics found above.

First off, the title, All My Mistakes.  How often do we fall victim to regretting the actions we have made in the past?  How often do we think, what a mistake?  If you are anything like me, you have thought this at least once in your life; I know for me it's been more than once.  I used to drown in my mistakes, and to be honest, I still feel myself being pulled in the world of regret.  While I still slip on this path called life, I try not to see my mistakes as pit falls without a bridge leading the way, but rather as stairs you are able to trip up (I would find it hard to believe I am the only person who trips up the stairs, Mom) and still recover from the fall.  This song, and several others by the Avett Brothers, remind us that life is a journey and we may hit bumps, but they are not the end of a beautiful path.  And this is the way I try to live my life.  I try not to be defined by the difficulties I have faced, by the mistakes I have made, by the past.  I try to "stop and smell the roses", and accept each day as a "present", to be mindful, for life is short an unpredictable. (Click Here for More on Mindfulness)

Secondly, this song touches upon friendships.  This day and age, especially with social media (Facebook, Instagram, Twitter) the term friendship gets thrown around pretty freely.  Everyone has a "BFF", or five, and the meaning of what a friend truly is has been lost.  The Avett Brothers share the belief with me that "friend" is a pretty meaningless word these days.  How many times do you tell someone you are going to dinner with your "friends", but you know the person sitting across from you is as much of a stranger as the weird guy in the booth two seats down?  How many times have you said, my "friend" so and so knows this and that and works with such and such?  How many people have you had a drunken, meaningless, heart to heart with?  I know I have done all of these things.  And I have also been a "friend" to someone by not showing my true self and pretending to be (much) cooler than I actually am.

While I may not have always surrounded myself with friends, I also know that I can relate to the lyrics, "I have a couple that have always been there for me".  I have been blessed to have so many wonderful, genuine friends in my life.  Some have come in and out, and some have stayed.  But all of those who have helped me become the person I am, have been there for me throughout.  Whether phsycially, or in spirit.  As I drove through the mountains this past weekend, I reflected on that.  I thought about how truly lucky I am to know people across this country I could trust with my life.  Who I can call in the middle of the night when my family has decided to take my Gram off life support; or when my beloved dog is breathing his last breaths.  I also know these will be the friends who will be there when I say my vows, or watch my children grow.  They will be there as our parents age, and as our kids learn to drive.

It's amazing to me that this little post sparked out of a way too early cross state drive; and one of my favorite bands.  That a title of a song and the words within it spoke to my heart in different ways. That I was reminded that my past does not define my path, and that said path is littered with "friends", but walked with friends.  I challenge you to actively think about the friendships in your lives.  Who is a "friend"? And who is a friend?  Feel free to leave comments with what a real friend means to you!

Lucidity and Love

I posted my last recipe the other day and promised I would write again later that day or "in a few days".  Since I don't really know what a "few" means, but am pretty sure I've let a "few" days pass, I forced myself to take a break from my 5 day crafting binge for my future sister-in-law's bachelorette weekend and sat down to type. 

I opened up my computer and sat staring blankly at the screen for about 5 minutes before giving up and taking a (s)troll down my Facebook newsfeed.  While looking at my newsfeed, I saw a video which I am sharing with you here before I share my thoughts and feelings.

It is no secret that this video is beautiful and that this mother and daughter are able to share this lucid and loving moment as "momma" slowly slips into the hands of Alzheimer's Disease.  I hate to sound negative about this special moment, but the entire time I watched "Kelly" encourage her mother to remember her, I cringed.  I cringed remembering the countless times as a hospice social worker, I watched family members beg their loved ones try to remember them, just one last time.  I cringed knowing that I did this to my own grandmother, as she slipped away from us in January.  I cringed knowing that this is anxiety provoking situation, and ultimately we put our need to be recognized and loved before that of our loved one. 

Alzheimer's Disease and other brain diseases, including medicated states, can cause our memories to fail us. Think of how frustrated you get when you walk into a room to get something, but can't remember what.  Or how stressful it is when you can't find the keys, or get lost when on a trip?  Doesn't it just grind your gears when you can't recall the name of the new neighbor you met?  I don't know about you, but all of these situations are beyond frustrating to me; and I am someone who would (hopefully) be considered to have full cognitive functioning.  So, think of what this must be like for someone with a failing memory  Their world continues to spin around them, while they remain stuck in a world of confusion. 

When you add someone in who is trying to jog their memory, or argues with the way they remember things to the equation, you ultimately add another level of confusion which can result in combativeness and hurt feelings.  A wonderful advocate for dementia care, Naomi Feil, recognized this anxiety provoking behavior and developed what we know today as Validation Therapy.  Now I could go into the different types of dementia and the different stages and ways of using this therapy in each stage.  But, for time and sanity's sake, I will merely say this.  Validation is what it sounds like...validating people.  Allowing their confused reality be reality, and in turn reduce anxiety and improve their quality of life. 

Now, I am going to share a video with you that shows what Validation Therapy is, and what it is capable of doing.  Disclaimer:  I have seen this video over 25 times and still cry when I watch; you may want to grab some tissues.

I don't think it is fair to say that either of these videos is more beautiful than the other.  But what I do think is that these equally touching videos allow us to begin talking about the best way to communicate with those with less than perfect cognitive abilities.  I think that it is beautiful that Kelly was able to communicate with her mother through coaching and reminding.  But I think it is just as amazing to watch Naomi Feil practice her Validation Method. 

I could go on for days about the aging population and the best ways to care for them. Once again, for time and sanity's sake, I will leave you with this; each elder is a gift and has a different story.  Take their stories into account when you communicate with them.  And you may just get one last recognition and lucid moment of love.

(Another) Batch of Muffins

It's been about a week since I have posted.  I set a goal for myself for one post and one recipe a week.  I did really well initially, but this past week has been kind of hectic and I just didn't have the time to sit down and write. And when I did, I quite honestly didn't feel like it.  But since I have been feeling guilty, I made a point to make sure I sat down today to share with you.  So while this post isn't going to be my usual soapbox rant, I will share with you a recent recipe I created.  Blueberry Peach Muffins.  These are a good breakfast treat, low fat and with only 128 calories per serving.  I hope y'all enjoy this, and I hope to sit down and write a longer blog at some point today or within the next few days.  Thanks for being patient, and enjoy!

Blueberry Peach Muffins

Recipe makes 12 muffins; Serving Size is 1 muffin

 

Ingredients:

• 3/4 cup vanilla almond milk
• 1/4 cup unsweetened applesauce
• 1 egg
• 1 TBSP canola oil
• 1 tsp vanilla
• 2 cup gluten free flour
• 2 TBSP flax meal
• 1/2 cup organic cane sugar
• 2 tsp baking powder
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• 3/4-1 cup fresh blueberries
• 2 fresh peaches, pitted and diced

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees
2. Place muffin liners in a muffin tin, or spray with a nonstick cooking spray
3. In a medium bowl whisk together almond milk, applesauce, egg, canola oil and vanilla
4. In a larger bowl mix flour, flax, sugar, baking powder, salt and cinnamon
5. Make a well in the dry ingredients and add wet mixture
6. Mix together, but do not over mix, the batter should be somewhat lumpy
7. Gently fold in blueberries and peaches
8. Separate batter into muffin tins
9. Bake at 400 degrees until golden brown
10. ENJOY when cooled!

Snitch or Samaritan?

I am not sure I have ever felt more glad that it was Friday than I did today.  What a long week; client crises, PMS, Turtle's first week in first grade, and a mountain of laundry.  I looked forward to some time on the couch watching a marathon of The United States of Tara, which Steven ever so sweetly, got me addicted to.  But while I was in the kitchen, supervising the making of our homemade nachos, I heard a bloodcurdling scream coming from the parking lot.  I went outside and the little boy who lives across the street was wailing.  I mean, the kid was ugly crying.  Snot, tears, heaving. The whole nine yards.  I was sure his mom would come out and get him, but the longer I stood there in the boxer briefs I had borrowed from Steven the more I realized that was not going to happen. 

 

So I decided I needed to do something.  I pulled my sunglasses off the top of my head, where they are housed from the time I wake up until I go to bed-yes, even on work days and slid them over my eyes.  I walked over to the little guy, and realized it was Turtle's classmate who I will call Pete just for the sake of naming him.  Pete is 6 or 7, but is a little delayed.  If I had to guess, I would say he functions at the age of the average 4 or 5 year old.  Anyway, when I got over to Pete I immediately turned on "Social Work" mode, and started coaching him.  I talked him through deep breaths and other grounding techniques and when I could finally reduce the sobbing enough to understand what he was saying, he told me he had just seen a snake "running" across his front patio.  Now mind you, we were now maybe 20 feet from his patio and he was screaming loud enough that I could hear him from about 50 ft.  Yet I was the only person who came outside.  I got him back in his house and started thinking.  There are probably 10 townhouses within earshot of where Pete was standing. Each unit either has 2 or 3 bedrooms, and if we assume at least 3 people live in each unit, and maybe half of those people are home or don't have their TV up too loud, that still leaves 13 people who chose to do nothing (Steven offered to go but I was starving and he was cooking).   

 

Now, I know that some people believe in that idea of not getting involved in other people's drama.  And I get that, to an extent. I even recognize that I have reacted to a lot of situations that perhaps I should have kept my mouth shut about.  But I also know that I am the kind of person that would not have been able to live with myself if the homeless man died on the sidewalk outside of my apartment, or the little baby playing in a front yard unsupervised got kidnapped, or the reckless car full of teenagers swerved in and out of rush hour traffic without using turn signals had caused or been in an accident.  Or if poor little Pete was hurt, in any way, shape or form. 

 

So where is the line supposed to be drawn?  When are we allowed to reach out for help, or when are we supposed to just turn a blind eye? When does a snitch become a good Samaritan? Or vice versa?  I know that there are people that have either turned a blind eye to a person or situation in need of help.  Even I, the over concerned social worker has walked by a homeless person asking for change, thinking, "If I don't make eye contact it won't be like I am ignoring him".  What drives us to do that?  And how can we change it?

 

I would argue, and this goes back to my post Stamp Out Stigma!, that we are made uncomfortable about that which we do not know about, or is unfamiliar to us.  So, rather than address the problem, we turn away from it and succumb to our belief  that, "if I can't see it, it's not there", and in turn, "if it's not there, I don't have to feel uncomfortable or confront it".  Additionally, stigma plays a role in the way that we choose to judge people or situations.  "He's just a drunk" or "that family is just like that" or "I don't want to be the next victim" get in the way of us simply doing the right thing.  We could choose to treat each person or situation differently.  But it's easier for our simple minds to see each group of people, neighborhoods, families and situations as the same. And none of that should be our problem.

 

But it is our problem.  If we turn away from the issue, we are allowing ourselves to become part of the problem.  We are making it okay for a starving person to starve, or a homeless person freeze, for the two year old to be left home alone, or a partner to fall victim to their significant other's hand.  We are allowing the voiceless to remain voiceless and the oppressed to remain oppressed.  We become the problem, and I would argue, maybe even the oppressor. 

 

So since we are the problem, what can we do to change it?  I'm not saying that we need to call the police as soon as we see something which pulls at our ethical strings.  But what I am saying is we need to be sure of where our moralities lie.  We need to explore our own core belief systems. Are we causing a bigger problem?  Are we ignoring an injustice?  Or maybe just, Can I live with the decision I am about to make?  I hope that next time you hear a neighbor child like Pete screaming, or see a person in need you will think of this. And that you will make a decision that you will be able to live with. 

Someone Has a Case of the Mondays

FYI this was written last night, but I needed my lovely mother to edit before I could send it along.  Thanks, Mom!

 

I think we can all agree on the fact that Mondays all around suck.  I mean, the weekend is over, and it's time to go back to work.  Surprisingly this morning, at 6 am when I woke up to get Turtle, Steven's son, ready for his first day of first grade, I didn't have the overwhelming  Case of the Mondays I usually face; I actually felt good.  I had just returned the night before from a refreshing weekend in Virginia with Steven, spending time with people I love, and felt rejuvenated in my soul and ready for the week ahead.  Steven and I took Turtle to school and after stopping by home to refill my coffee cup I zipped off to work.

 

I felt good as I walked into the mental health center.  I was 20 minutes early which would give me plenty of time to swing by my dear friend's office, and still have time to catch up on emails and phone calls leftover from the week before.  I chatted with my dear friend, went to my office and got to work.  First thing on my To Do list was a letter needed by a client giving her permission to carry her prescription from the homeless shelter where she lives to work. No biggie.  Letter typed.  Sent to the printer. Check.

 

Still feeling good about my day, I headed to the copy room to pick up the letter so I could have a MD sign it.  My letter was still warm in my hands when I ran into one of the supervisors, who calmly told my that my supervisor was in her office and she "may have something to tell" me.  Dread hit me immediately.  I tried not to think the worst, but in the pit of my stomach, I knew.  Someone was dead.  For the second time since I started working at the local community mental health center, I was confronted with the news that one of the clients I had worked with had taken their life.

 

I sat in the supervisors' office in shock.  Conversation went on around me, but I was somewhere else.  I heard someone ask, "are you okay?" All I could respond with was a blank stare.  I waited until there was an appropriate time and I quickly sped off to my office.  I had 20 minutes before a client was due to arrive to "deal" with the news that was just unexpectedly handed to me and caused my happy Monday to come crashing down around me.  Thank goodness my sweet officemate was in our office .  She gave me some motherly words and a hug before I had to head off to see my client.

 

Fortunately for me, I am gifted and trained in shutting off my emotions and being completely present with the person I am with.  I spent the next hour with my client problem solving, building her confidence and assisting her in realizing the strength she possesses within herself.  Unfortunately that hour was eventually over, and I was once again forced to face the negative thoughts running through my head and the emotions charging through my veins.

 

I tried to distract myself with paperwork for the rest of the day.  Seeing a client or two in between the notes and treatment plans that needed to be written, but on the inside I was mourning.  I wanted to scream, cry and most importantly get some good perspective on what I was experiencing.  I tried to go talk to someone, but they were busy. Another friend offered to listen, but I didn't want to burden her.  I later thought I would take her up on her offer, but she was with a client. 

 

So once again I was back to me, myself and my thoughts.  Not a great combo at a time like this.  That lasted about 5 to 7 minutes before I had enough and went to look for someone I respect at work.  A man who is nothing but inspirational, and encourages me to do the best I can while caring for the mentally ill, our head Peer Support Specialist.  I sat down and told him what was going on and that "I really just need someone to give me some good perspective".  And he did just that. 

 

During our 15 minute conversation he helped me to remember that my thinking was kind of selfish and, more importantly, to see the good in the bad. 

 

So often, bad things happen to us, or someone we love or even just know and we are overcome by sadness and negative thoughts.  It becomes hard to see the sun shining behind the thick wall of clouds which have hit us like a brick wall.  We think things like, "why me?" or "why that family?" rather than thinking "what can I learn from this experience?" or "what can I take from this that may make me a better person". 

 

I wouldn't be honest if I said that I am able to see the good in this recent suicide, or even some of the other sad events which have shocked me to my core over the past 6 months.  Truthfully, I am still stuck in my grief and sadness.  I haven't full accepted the loss of my grandmother or my sweet dog, and I am still stunned by the suicide of a client in March.  But after talking to my coworker I am trying to see things differently.  I am trying to pick the small glimmers of light out from the darkness.  To remember the positives, to allow myself to feel the way I do and to become better because of what the people I have lost have taught me; regardless of whether I met them once, or spent almost 30 years loving them. 

 

I am going to share with you one thing that each of the people(and dogs) taught me, and that I hope to carry with me through my life.  I hope that you can do the same with your sad days, losses and Horrible Mondays.

 

To my Gram: You taught me to be a genuinely loving person.  To love everyone like God loves us, in spite of our imperfections.  You taught me what it means to be graceful, and walk through life appreciating every single moment.  You are the light in my heart, and I carry you with me every single day.  Your love and life were such a blessing to every single person who met you, and I will do my best to live and love the way you did, every day of my life.

 

To Client Number 1: Thank you for helping me to understand what a true sickness is.  To experience sitting in a room with someone who is experiencing a different reality than me was eye opening and allowed me to really know what it means to meet someone where they are.  I will do my best to always remember this and your complete vulnerability with me as I support others struggling like you did to fit in in a judgmental world.

 

To my sweet Parker Lou: Some people may think its strange that I am including a dog in here, but I don't care. You taught me how to be grateful.  How to appreciate the little things and be unselfish.  I miss your excitement about going for a walk or getting your butt scratched, and your willingness to put yourself after your "sibling". I will remember the love you gave me every day, little bud.

 

And finally, to Client Number 2: I may have only met you once, but I could tell you were hurting.  But you remained kind and your love for others was apparent.  I am saddened by your death but am reminded that your life was yours and my other clients' lives are theirs.  I am merely just a support for an hour or two a week in a life that anything but perfect.  I will do my best to remember this as I work with my clients.

 

I hope that you all can try to learn from my sadness, and journey with me as I try to find     the good and carry these for important lives with me in helping myself and all of us in living out Let's Be Wellness!

Peach and Chili Cherry Cups

This past weekend Steven and I stopped by our favorite little Asian Market to pick up some fresh, and reasonably priced shrimp and veggies. Steven had envisioned a noodle dish for dinner on Saturday, and I had picked up some Spring Roll wrappers with no idea what my contribution was going to be.  I still had no clue an hour later when we finally got home from the market when I tossed the wrappers in the fridge.

A few hours later and after a much needed nap, I was ravenous.  I knew Steven would be starting on his creation soon, and time was ticking away.  I already knew I had a package of Spring Roll wrappers unthawing and with that in mind I opened up the fridge. I dug through leftovers and new produce and came across one lonely peach and a handful of cherries and a package of Thai chili peppers we had bought earlier in the day.  I had it; I would make some sort of peach and chili cherry creation.

I threw some cherries in a pot, added a minced Thai chili pepper, some sugar and a little bit of water and got  it to boiling.  All the while tasting here and there and adding a little more chili and sugar along the way.  While the syrup was cooking I fashioned cups out of Spring Roll wrappers and grilled the peaches.  I pulled the cups out of the oven after about 10 or 15 minutes, and the peaches off the grill once they looked really juicy.  I cut up the peaches, put them in a crispy cup and drizzled each cup with the cherry chili syrup.  And, bam!  A dessert I think should be on the menu at every Asian restaurant I frequent.  And the best part is each cup only has 93 calories.  Not too bad for a sweet and spicy dessert if you ask me.

 

Grilled Peaches with Cherry Chili Syrup

Recipe Serves 4

 

Ingredients:

• 4 Frozen Spring Roll Wrappers (you can normally find a package of 25 in the frozen section at your local Asian market)
• Approximately 10 fresh cherries, pitted and quartered
• 1 Thai chili pepper, minced
• 2-3 TBSP of organic cane sugar
• 2-3 TBSP of water
• splash of lemon juice

Directions:

1. Take frozen Spring Roll wrappers out of the freezer and follow the defrosting directions on the back of the package
2. Preheat your oven to 350 degrees and your grill to a low setting
3. Add cherries, chili, sugar, lemon juice and water to a small saucepan, bring to a boil, stirring occasionally
4. Reduce sauce to a simmer, stirring occasionally until the sauce is a syrupy consistency.
5. Remove the sauce from heat once it has reached desired consistency
6. Put peaches on grill
7. Take Spring Roll wrappers and form any shape desired or place in a lightly greased muffin tin to make cups.  If you want you can brush with an egg white and honey mix to give them more color and flavor as they bake
8. Bake wrappers for 10-15 minutes or until golden
9. Once the peaches are juicy, remove from grill and cube
10. Place cubed peaches in cups and drizzle with generous amount of syrup

 

 

 

Stamp Out Stigma!

I was shocked last night when I logged on to Facebook to check and see what was new in the world of social media.  I was hit with endless posts about the sad and untimely death of one of my favorite childhood actors, Robin Williams.  I felt tears welling up, it had already been an impossibly hard day, and the news of a suicide rocked me to my core.  Sure, I didn't know Robin Williams. I don't know the story of his demons, his daily struggle with mental illness and addiction.  What I do know, is the struggle of my clients, of my family and friends, of far too many people who feel so alone in their misery that they result to feeling like their only option is suicide. 

 

Every year in the United States more than 30,000 people feel that there is no light at the end of the tunnel and fall victim to suicide (Suicide Awareness Voices of Education, 2014).  This number is staggering, but what is even more shocking is that suicide is the 11th most leading cause of death in the United States, and causes twice as many deaths as HIV/AIDS (SAVE, 2014).  These numbers are astounding, and put into perspective how serious of a problem suicide, and mental illness and addiction truly are.  So if this is such a problem, why isn't more being done to raise awareness and shine some light on the mental illnesses that are plaguing this world? Stigma?

 

How many times have you seen a dirty, unkempt man in the park talking to himself and laughed?  Or chuckled at the old lady pushing a shopping cart full of what appears to garbage?  Or encouraged your frat brother to have "just one more" after he just threw up a shot on the bar?  How about this; when have you been the person being laughed at or stigmatized against? The chubby, unathletic kid picked last for recess? Or the awkward teenager, trying to fit in by starving yourself, or binging and purging behind the bathroom doors? The soldier returning from war whose civilian buddies keep telling you to "man up" or "stop being such a pussy". Or even the mother of a newborn baby, experiencing a huge change in hormones all the while questioning her ability to mold another human being?  I would be willing to bet you could relate to at least one of those scenarios, and if you couldn't you know someone who could.  Heck, I can relate to at least one of those, if not more. We have called people "pscyhos" or "schizo"  or even referred to ourselves saying, "I am so bipolar".  And so I would be hard-pressed to believe you if you told me you had never stigmatized anyone or been stigmatized against.  If all of us can relate as either the stigmatized or stigmatizer why don't we do something to something to change this?

 

Unfortunately we either laugh at or avoid things we don't know about, therefore the first step to reducing stigma is through education.  There is so much information out there, and if you are reading this blog, you better not tell me you don't have a way to access it.  Shoot, if you are reading this blog and consider yourself to fit into the group of stigmatizers, click out of the window and google "mental illness" or "addiction" something of that nature.  And read.  I don't care if you come back to the window of Let's Be Wellness, as long as you learn something to open your eyes to what people with mental illness really go through each day.

 

Now that stigma is gone, nothing stands in the way of asking for help.  The insecure teenager can go to her mother, the soldier can talk openly with his commander, the new mother can ask for help instead of feeling like she "should know what she is doing".   Unfortunately that is the future I hope will exist someday and not the sad reality we live in.  So as we work to reduce stigma, I also propose we encourage others to get help.  Or to reach out to those we need help.  Call your local mental health center, your doctor, a friend, your Pastor, 911; someone who can get you pointed in the direction you may need.  Therapy, medication, or maybe just a listening ear.

 

Let's not let Robin Williams or any of the other 39,999 victims of suicide die in vain. Let's reduce stigma. Let's educate ourselves.  Let's reach out to those in need.  Let's reach out when we are in our own places of need.  Let's Be Happy! Let's Be Healthy! Let's Be Wellness!

 

***If you or someone you know is in immediate fear for their life, CALL 911***