Insecurity

I've been listening to Beth Moore's book on CD, "So Long, Insecurity:  You've Been A Bad Friend To Us."
It's been eye opening and refreshing to hear how many of us feel the same way.

I've been feeling insecure for awhile.  I'm not sure if it's from the depression or from getting ready to write the next portion of my book.  For some reason, insecurity has reared its ugly head.

It's showing itself in the form of substantiated past  fear.  People breaking into my house, being touched when I don't want to be touched and having to respond violently in order to keep myself safe.

This includes keeping a knife near my bed, a bat near my couch and mace on my key ring.  Other forms of security include making sure all doors and windows are locked, my car doors are locked when traveling and staying aware of my surroundings.

Most of these are healthy forms of protection.  Some, however, are not and are not safe for me.

• Keeping a knife near my bed is not safe because I self-injure, so I don't do it. 
• Keeping a bat near my couch is not safe because I might over react and break something.

My Mom told me to keep a can of wasp spray in or near my bed.  In case of an intruder, it has up to a twenty foot spray range and when the spray hits the intruder on the face or in the eyes, they have to go to the emergency room for treatment.  Then they are caught by police.  That sounds good.

Last night I was feeling emotionally scared.  I was laying on the couch trying to settle down by watching a movie.  When I was going through my coping skills I remembered one that really helped.

When I was in therapy a few years ago there were some sessions when I was an emotional mess. The therapist told me to lay down on the couch.  By that time I trusted her so I laid down.  She reached up over me, grabbed the blanket and covered me up.  I calmed down almost instantly.  

I don't remember anything else about the session.  I felt safe.  I felt warmth.  I felt nurtured.

My therapist took me to the safe warm place of my God.  He was able to nurture me and tenderly calm me because my therapist and I invited Him into our session.  God doesn't go where He isn't wanted.

That's the safe place I took myself to.  I brought all of my fears and insecurities to that place, to God, to that therapist, to that therapy room, to that couch and to that blanket.  I wanted to be there.  In fact, her last words to me were, "Amy, I'll always be your therapist."  And I know God reminds me that He'll always be my loving and safe Father.

God has given me unbelievable therapists.  Every one of them has been hand picked by Him.  I know this to be an unequivocal fact.  They are wise, safe, nurturing, real and seek God's direction.  They are humble in nature and have a good sense of humor when needed.

Insecurity perpetuates the fear my past abuse (especially the sexual abuse) and mental illness already dishes out.  I know I've overcome a lot.  There's still more work to be done.

Maybe 2014 will be the year when more insecurity can be released into the hands of heaven. 

Click Here for: Beth Moore So Long, Insecurity: You've Been A Bad Friend To Us

Overstimulated

I can't stand the thought of someone knocking on my door, wanting to enter my home.
This rarely happens so I don't know why I am so worked up about it happening.
I visualize myself with a wooden baseball bat, defending my turf.
In reality, I won't be fighting a person - just an imaginary confrontation.

I'm so tired from the constant barrage of going places to shop, being around people, having to be pleasant when at times I wanted to just barrel through lines and be done.  But that's not how God created me nor is that how He'd want me to treat His children.

Here I sit.  Tired, a little depressed and wanting to curl up to sleep.  It's 2:30 in the afternoon.  I feel overstimulated.  I canceled my doctor's appointment.  Can't take the interaction.

Maybe the best thing I can do is try to download my thoughts and relax.
I hope I can.

The Forgotten Gift

Twas the day after Christmas and all through the house,
Everyone was stirring, even the mouse.

The presents were opened, the Christmas wrap picked up,
Children could be heard laughing, even the pup!

Leftovers were spread on the table with care,
The family was nibbling - nibbling here, nibbling there.

But there in the corner sat one little present.
It did not have a tag, or a bow or a crescent.

It wasn't flashy, glittery or hung from the wall.
Why this present didn't seem very special at all.

Until one of the children curious to see,
Picked up the present and it started to sing.



The little child sat there with tears in her eyes,
"Why this is the greatest present that money can't buy!"

For God gave Jesus as a gift to us all,
To pay for all of our sins, the big and the small.

If you know Jesus and you've asked Him into your heart,
Then you'll be with Him forever, just like a pop tart (sorry).

If you don't know Jesus and in your heart He's not,
Why not invite Him in?  He'll find His special spot!

Grieving Losses of People

A strange but normal thing happened the other day.  Something I thought was finished.  I guess that's why I was so surprised.

I was shopping for Christmas when I spotted some gift boxes for gift cards.  There were two in a package.  I thought to myself, "Perfect, I'll get three packages."

I said to myself, "I'll have enough for six people since one of my nieces won't be getting a gift card."  I paid for my purchases and brought them home.  It wasn't until the next day that my bell got rung.

I was putting the gift cards into the boxes when I saw one left over.  I counted it out again. 

Seven nephews and nieces
One without a gift card
Six gift boxes needed

What was wrong?

And then I remembered.  It happened again.  I included my nephew Aaron in the mix. 

Aaron died from huffing when he was 18 years old in April of 2010.  This was the fourth Christmas his absence would be felt.  Sometimes it feels like the first.

My therapist said it's a form of denial that your subconscious goes into.  Like a way to cope with the grief.  I didn't understand it until I chewed on it for awhile.

Along with Aaron are the reminders of Cathy and my Dad who passed away in February of 2008.  I know I'm not supposed to dwell on the past but I think grief is different. 

Grief has it's own timetable.  It's okay to grieve those we loved and even those who were very difficult to love. 

Grief is grief no matter who it is or how long ago they died.

When Depression Sneaks In

For as long as I can remember, depression has never made a timely announcement that it's here.  It's never sent a letter telling me it's coming to town, never sent an e-mail telling me it's arrived and  never sent a text message that it's at my front door.

Depression has bad communication skills.

Depression is not mean, does not possess anger qualities and does not want revenge.  In fact, I picture depression as the complete opposite.

Like the blob on the Cymbalta commercials, depression looks like it has attachment issues.  It's not overly friendly yet it attaches itself to an individual in the form of a jacket or a robe.  It stays with a person and by doing so, brings the person down in spirit.

Depression is not concerned by which person it picks.  It's a level playing field and everyone is an eligible contender.

Depression often sneaks in - like the quarterback sneak play in football.  You don't see it coming until a few yards have been gained.  It might even be too late to tackle before the damage is done.

When depression sneaks in, I follow some simple steps:

1.  Acknowledge the depression so it doesn't take over my life
2.  Talk about it with my therapist
3.  Take my medications as prescribed
4.  Get plenty of rest
5.  Eat healthy and the best way I can
6.  Make sure I don't over do it
7.  Make sure I don't isolate for too long (maybe a day or two maximum)
8.  Read positive things
9.  Watch funny or positive movies
10.  Talk to my psychiatrist if it goes on for too long

It takes some practice learning about managing my depression.  The more I put those 10 coping skills into practice, the better I'll be able to take care of myself naturally.  So far, we're good.

This is depression day number six.