Stranger in a Strange Land...

Lost in a daydream

What do you see?

If you're looking for Jesus

Get on your knees

30 Seconds to Mars

Do you ever feel like a stranger in your own life?  As if the life you've always known, the one you built isn't really yours.  

If you've ever suffered from mental health problems then you'll probably understand very quickly what it is I'm asking you...one day it's your life and the next it's as if you've woken up in someone else's.  The pieces just don't quite fit anymore.  At least not the way you remember.

My fight with PTSD and depression have at times completely taking over everything else.  There are days that I don't remember what it's like not to feel sad or guilty or as if my heart is going to crawl out of my throat...I am not the person I once was.  I am the pieces of that person shattered over thousands of miles, picked up a glued back together like a mosaic.  I am the pieces of that girl, that women, that mom, that wife...I am the pieces left over that did not disintegrate.  

I am often a stranger in my own life, a strange in a strange land...  

I'm addicted...

I'm officially addicted to coffee.  Now I've known this small fact for awhile, but this will be my first time admitting out loud (or on the computer,whatever) that I am a coffee addict.  I love the flavor of a sweet cup of coffee, the caffeine high afterward and the lovely aroma as it brews.  

I am especially addicted to Starbucks coffee.   Now before all of you jump on me about paying that price of a cup of coffee, this is my one vice.  I've given up pedicures and getting my nails done every other week.  I've given up eating out most days. I CAN NOT give up my Starbucks coffee.  I just can't do it.  My kids and husband think I'm crazy, but I just can't seem to help myself.

The funny thing is that a year ago I hated the thought of coffee.  Since my deployment though I crave it.  I failed miserably at an attempt of a Whole 30 Paleo diet because I couldn't have coffee with cream.  I have a serious issue.  

My two favorite drinks from my favorite place are a Caramel Vanilla Latte with three Splendas and their new Caramel Ribbon Crunch Frappucino.  If you haven't tried it yet, don't.  Walk slowly away and do not get sucked in!  Seriously I've gotten up to three a day at one point, no that isn't a typo I did say three.  Drives my hubby crazy.  This drink though is like a small slice of heaven in a cup.  The caramel, the coffee, the awesome whip cream...like I said WALK AWAY!

Now I do not consider myself a coffee snob, but if I have a choice between any other coffee and Starbucks I will definitely go with Starbucks.  I have yet to have a bad cup of coffee from them.  I love the smell of the place, I love the staff and most importantly I love the coffee, just in case you hadn't gotten that part yet.

So now that I've bared my soul about my one true addiction, feel free to share your's.  I'm only kidding, no need to share.  Unless of course you'd like to discuss it over a cup of coffee :)

Memorial Day...what it means to me...

When I was little Memorial Day was simply another day to be out of school.  I had no family members who had served, at least that I knew of then.  Years later I found out that an Uncle had served, but he never spoke of his time in the military.  My Grandfather wanted to serve, but he was flat footed and back in his day that was an automatic disqualification.  My Step-Father wanted to serve during Vietnam, even went so far as to fake his birth date on the paperwork, get on the bus ready to leave with some other guys when he was busted and sent back home.  He was the only son in his family, so again an automatic disqualification...well and he was too young to enlist.

That kind of brings me to why I ended up enlisting...I was kind of in college...actually I was allowing my parents to pay for a school I wasn't actually attending.  I was waiting tables to make money to hang out with my friends.  I was pretty much going no where in a great big hurry.  During one of my afternoon shifts at the restaurant I worked at (name withheld because I never really like their food) I ended up with a party of about 35 Air Force recruiters.  I'd been asking for a sign telling me what I should do with my life and if that isn't a sign, I'm not sure what is.  So I enlisted and have loved my time with the military.

I've deployed twice, as previously discussed in another post, and that is what leads me to what Memorial day means to me:

Memorial Day is a day that I get to rejoice and mourn for those who have served and given their lives so that I have the opportunity to raise my children in a free world.  I am able to pray in public, walk beside my husband and not behind him, work, have friends...all of these things and thousands more I am able to do because of the sacrifice of others.  I am able to drive a car, vote as a woman, have an opinion I can share in public...because of the men and women who went before me.

During my first deployment I worked with an Army unit in a small, isolated outpost in Afghanistan. These guys had been there for numerous months with only one another to look at and talk to.  They had been placed in a desolate location with little food, water or fuel for heat.  They were unable to use their vehicles because the roads were destroyed by the enemy.  They truly had little contact with anyone outside of their location.  My teammate and I were the first women they had seen in months, and the first people who had braved the elements of this location to come out and check on them.  To say they were relieved was an understatement.  They were excited to have people to talk to who hadn't heard every story they all already knew.  They were excited that anyone thought enough of them to travel out to where they were to see them.  They were really excited about the Girl Scout cookies we brought with us :).  With all of the things working against these guys, there was one story they all wanted to share.  The story of one of their platoon leaders who had lost his life, the story of how he lived verses the story of how he died.  I won't be sharing this story here, because this is their story of his life that they should share if they ever feel it's time. I can however, say that this man, this Lt, this son, brother, husband gave his life for our country. for his men and for what he believed in.  He gave his life because he felt it was his duty.  He never thought twice about leading his men into battle and he was always the first one to go...this is what Memorial Day means to me.

During my second deployment I was working with a different Army unit, again in a remote location.  These guys were days away from closing down their location and moving to a more secure location.  They were so close to moving that they'd sent their cooks back already and were living off of MRE's...not the best eating if you ask me.  They were living out of a school that the locals had built and then abandoned.  The week prior to our arrival these brave men were hit while they were out training.  They sustained several injured and one death.  It was the death that led us to them.  We were there to talk to them, help in anyway we could.  What I learned is a story of a great guy, great friend, great husband and son.  I man who loved his little sister, a man who doted on his new wife, a man who loved his brothers in arms so much that he ultimately gave his life to save them.  He was assisting with another injured member when he died covering the injured solider and the medics with his own body.  He died saving the lives of his brothers.  This is what Memorial Day means to me.

I know their names and I've seen their faces, the men and women who volunteer to go wherever they are needed in order to allow us our freedoms.  To protect us from the monsters who live in the dark.  To work for nothing, in horrible conditions, with little contact with their own families.  These men and women volunteered to do these things for you and me.  The only option we have, the only option we should entertain is to salute these brave souls.  These people who felt strongly enough about our freedoms that they chose to do a job that would at some point put their lives in danger.  These are the true Hero's in our society.  Not the football players or baseball players, not the movie stars or singers, not the protester's or politicians...the true hero's are our military men and women.  The sons, daughters, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, father's and mother's who choose to live a life of an uncertain future so that others have one!

Today take a moment to thank those men and women for what they have done, for the lives we have lost, for the ones we have saved.  Thank them for your freedoms, your families, your rights.  Thank them for doing the job that few others would do!

"A time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace." Ecclesiastes 3:8 ESV

What to do...What to do...

I am currently awaiting word from the military of when they will be allowing me to medically retire.  I can't continue my career due to the issues from my previous deployment.  So as I'm waiting around I've been diligently (okay maybe not diligently), frequently attempting to decide what I want to do once it's all over...

There are a lot of options out there, but how do you pick something you will love, something that will bring you joy, something you can really put your passion into?  Everyday I seem to find something else I think I would be passionate about.  How do you really know though?  The only thing I can think of, other than my family of course, that I am passionate about is reading and I don't see anyone hiring me to sit around and read all day...if you know of someone though please let me know:)

I have a degree in Psychology with a minor in special education...do I want to continue with the special education route?  I've looked into Troops to Teachers, even contacted them.  I have several emails currently sitting in my inbox that I have yet to open from them.  Do I want to work with kids all day?

I love the Wounded Warrior Project and what is stands for.  I love it's values and principles.  I love that if focuses on helping wounded warriors transition back into their lives.  I would love to work for them, but in what capacity?  What if they don't have a position near where I live?  I can't just up and move...my husband is still active duty.  Do I want to try anyway?

I've mulled over the idea of becoming a true stay at home Mom.  Homeschooling the boys, training the dog(s), keeping the house clean, dinner cooked, laundry done....I feel like I'm quickly disliking this idea the more I type.  Not to bash stay at home Mom's in anyway.  I have total respect for you guys and what you do all day.  It can not be an easy life.  I just don't know if I can do it.  Do I want to spend everyday, all day with just me and the boys?

Recently I've begun thinking about becoming a dog trainer.  I love dogs.  I would have an entire farm full, if my husband allowed and if we lived on a farm.  I love the idea of working with dogs that need help and turning them into awesome pets for another family.  I love the idea of saving dogs from a future with no loving family and potential death.  I love the idea of being around dogs all day because they are loving souls, who don't need to talk to you to make themselves under stood.  I love being around them and I think if I worked really hard I could be a good trainer.  Plus I really wouldn't miss working with people that much...that's the introvert in my talking.  Do I want to work with dogs and potentially really bad owners all day?

Do I want to be an author, an editor, a chef? Do I want to be a teacher, an administrator, a medical transcriptionist (yes I have a certificate for that too)?  How do you know what will make you happy in the long run?  I've done the military thing for so long that I'm not sure what it is I truly love.  What is it that would make me want to get up everyday and go to work?  For those of you who know me...what would you see me doing?

I've stated to some friends that I would love for God to put a big post-it note on my fridge letting me know what direction he has for my life.  I would love to see a bill board with the words...LIZA THIS IS WHAT YOU ARE MEANT TO DO.  I would love to have an idea of where my life is headed.  I realize that in His own good time He will show me where he wants me to serve.  I just need to sit patiently and wait.

"Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him; fret not yourself over the one who prosperous in his way, over the man who carries out evil devices. Refrain from anger and forsake wrath. Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil. For the evildoers shall be cut off, but those who wait for the Lord shall inherit the land." Psalm 37: 7-9 ESV

The Marriage Box...

"Most people get married believing a myth that marriage is a beautiful box full of all the things they have longed for: companionship, intimacy, friendship, etc. The truth is that marriage at the start is an empty box.  You must put something in before you can take anything out.  There is no love in marriage.  Love is in people.  And people put love in marriage.  There is  no romance in marriage.  you have to infuse it into your marriage.  A couple must learn the art and form the habit of giving, loving, serving, praising...keeping the box full.  If you take out more than you put in, the box will be empty." ~unknown

How many of us got married young with the idea that marriage was easy and like the relationships you watched on t.v.?  How many of us thought that everything would be perfect after you were married.  In reality we were playing house, until things got hard.  We were in love with the idea of marriage but not with the work it takes to make it work.

I can honestly say that I was unprepared for my first marriage.  I look back now and realize that I wanted to be married because I didn't want to be alone.  I liked the thought of having someone to come home to, someone to share things with, someone to play house with.  Reality set in fairly quickly.  Like when I realized he really wasn't going to pull his weight around the house, when his Father's reaction to our having a baby was "I can't believe you knocked her up, she's never going to let me see my grandchild...", granted he'd never met me before.  Being young, newly married and pregnant was probably the real beginning of the end for us.

We struggled, we fought (verbally only), we went through phases of complete disdain for one another.  We also had some fun, had three children total, moved twice and learned that we were not going to make it as a couple.  There are several really important reasons that it didn't work out, but I'm not going to go into those right now.  Plus, he can't defend himself so it wouldn't be fair.

With my second marriage I knew what I wanted.  I wanted a partner.  Someone who would share everything with me, household chores, raising children, financial issues, the good stuff and the bad. I knew this time how much work is really involved in a marriage.  How much give and take.  We talk things out, even when we don't want to speak to one another.  We make decisions together.  We laugh, we love, we cry and we comfort.  We are patient with one another.  We are there for one another.  We show a united front for our children, even if we don't agree with the other's decision.  We are a true couple.

We aren't perfect.  We argue, we get upset with one another, we take time out from one another if needed.  We work things out though.  We talk, we share, we know what kind of work a marriage takes.  We also, place our faith in the Lord that He will sustain our marriage.  He will guide us forward and show us how to make this marriage work.  I love my husband no matter what.  I love him despite our differences or maybe I should say because of our differences.  I love that everyday we learn something new from one another.  Most importantly I love that he is always there for me. He is my rock in rough seas!

"For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control." II Timothy 1:7 ESV

Society...

http://cdnapi.kaltura.com/index.php/extwidget/openGraph/wid/1_iflwear7

The clip attached is an excellent view from the Ellen show on how society makes women feel today.  As many of you have heard the CEO of Abercrombie an Fitch has expressed is desire to rid his stores of all sizes over a 10 in womens' clothing.  He says that anyone over a size ten is, overweight and not cool enough to wear his brand, to that I say he's an ass.

I will never purchase another Abercrombie and Fitch item as long as their stores are open, not that I've shopped there in years anyway, but I am the size demographic they sale to.  I am in the percentage of women who are underweight and even that causes problems for me.  I understand that women are very sensitive about their weight and size, but let's be real ladies, we are the way God made us.  Large, small, medium, tall, short, thin, big boned...do any of those really mean anything?

How about we start looking at our attributes starting from the inside?  I am kind, considerate, loving, patient, motherly, empathetic...those are the words we should be focused on.  Instead society dictates that we should worry about our weight, how are hair looks, how are clothes fit, how are makeup looks...they only want us to focus on the outward appearance.  Well, I'm over it.  I'm over worrying about how other people view me.  I'm over worrying about looking bad in something that I may love to wear.  I'm over killing myself to be a certain weight, to wear a certain article of clothing, to wear the right make up colors or the right hair color...or whatever else it is that society thinks it can dictate about me.

I am a mother of four, I am a college graduate, I have been to war, I have not been able to shower everyday on some occasions, I am someone's daughter, sister, mother, friend, wife...I am a person.  I am not a number on a scale, I am not the person required to wear a certain brand of clothing and I am most definitely not a person who will ever look at another individual and base my opinion of them on how they look.

I will teach my children that looks fade, personalities grow.  Hair color and makeup change, the inside of a person does not.  People will always try to fit in, but it's time to start teaching our younger generations that fitting in is not all it's cracked up to be.  Being yourself is so much more important.

So ladies join me in my cause to stop purchasing products from a brand that says we must look a certain way to wear their clothing.  Join me in remembering what really makes each of us beautiful and different.  Just me in letting Mr. CEO of Abercrombie and Fitch know that his opinion is not important, his store is not important, his clothing line is not important and most of all that the way he sees women is NOT IMPORTANT.  Let's stop allowing society to dictate to us and let's start dictating to society what we will and will not accept from others!!

Karma...

Yesterday I talked about kids being sick, well maybe not sick, but anyway...today my youngest is sick.  I'm calling out karma today because this is my payback for what I posted...I'm pretty sure of it.  He said he wasn't feeling well last night and his temp was 102.5...high right?  Well, today he still isn't feeling any better, so we're sitting on the couch together with the dog between us watching T.V.

Yep I spoke too candidly yesterday...the funny thing is that I'm okay staying home with him today.   There are some things around the house that I needed to get to anyway...that I will as soon as I get off the computer and get motivated.  As parents it really is our jobs to take care of our children and help them to feel better, but there are times you just aren't able to do that.

My older two boys are type 1 diabetics...no they can't be cured, they can't ever not take insulin, and there is no miracle cure.  If you believe there is please refrain from sharing your opinions with me.  I've been doing this for nine years so I'm pretty confident in what I'm saying.  My oldest son was diagnosed at age 4...at the time we thought there was no family history, but years later we found out that wasn't necessarily true.

You could call his diagnosis a Mother's intuition.  The only true symptoms he had was an increase in thirst and significant increase in urination.  Nothing else, no weight loss, no sickness, nothing.  I was certain though that something was wrong so I took him in and my suspicions were confirmed.  the pediatrician asked me that day if we wanted to go into the hospital that night or take him to the endocrinologist the next morning.  He was not in DKA and at the time I knew very little about what  T1 entailed.  I opted to take him home for one more night of normality.  I allowed him to pick out his dinner and I hugged and loved on him all night.  I knew that the next day would be the end of his "normal" childhood.  It was, from that day forward everything in our lives changed.

You may say we were "lucky" to get diagnosed so early, but I don't think any family living with T1 would think of themselves as lucky.  Yes it could be worse, but it could also be better.  In November of 2009 we got  our second shock...my middle son was diagnosed with T1 as well.  Almost the same situation as his brother.  No sickness, no weight loss, just an increase in thirst and urination.  I was now the Mother of two T1's.  I thought my life had changed before, this was an even bigger shock.

I have not really slept a full night since 2005, yeah you read that right, 2005.  It's been awhile.  I now leave with a dark cloud over me, simply waiting for my youngest son to be diagnosed.  You may say that that's no way to live, but when you already have 2 T1's, you can of have an expectation that the third will be diagnosed as well.  As a family though we are in this together.  This is not something that keeps us from living, it just makes our living a little different.  I am confident that my boys will live long prosperous lives and that God has a plan for each of them. He will watch over them, protect them, and allow them to grow.  I am confident in all of these things.

"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in my heart, and you will find rest for your souls." Matthew 11:28-29 (NASB)

That kind of Mom...

Have you ever been the kind of Mom who gives your kid Tylenol in the morning and sends them to school hoping to have enough time to get a few things accomplished before they call you to pick them up?  How about the kind that tells others your kid is sick to get out of doing something else, even though your kid isn't even with you?  How about the Mom who hides in the bathroom to get away from the kids?  Of course not, none of us would be that Mom...

Come on ladies you know you've done one or more of the things listed above.  You've felt guilty afterward and wanted to forget that you'd lied, but you did it.  Why do we do this?  Why can't we just say...I need some time alone?  No I can't help you with x, y, or z.  Mommy just needs a little bit of quiet time.  Any one of those is really easy to say (well type), but our overwhelming Mommy quilt makes it difficult for even the best of us.

I often find myself sitting on the toilet lid in the bathroom with the door locked begging for just 5 minutes of solitude.  Now don't get me wrong, I love my children, love them with every breath I take, but sometimes I need them to leave me alone.  I just need to be home alone, quiet, no noise...BY MYSELF.

We are a one bathroom household though, so even hiding in the bathroom can be a challenge.  I literally cannot go into the bathroom without my children, husband, cats or dog following me...knocking on the door, asking what I'm doing, when will I be out, how much longer, can I have some food...the other ten million questions I can't think of right now off the top of my head.  Yes they follow me to the bathroom.  My husband calls it the three foot radius rule...my children and dog can't be outside of three feet away from me or they can't function.

By can't function, I mean literally can't dress themselves, feed themselves, brush their teeth, be taking out...that would be the dog...it's actually kind of ridiculous.  I know your thinking I must baby them for them to act this way, but in reality I don't.  They have to do things for themselves.  They have chores everyday and they have to be prepared for each day.  I cook and do laundry, but I refuse to clean up after them...so they are responsible for their own rooms.  I think they follow me so closely in an attempt to drive me a little more crazy than I already am.

I love them though.  I love them for their similarities and their differences.  I love them for the light they bring to our home and for the funny conversations we have...like the discussion that ended with "Papa can't have babies because he has old semen", yep you read it right and that can be a post all on it's own.  I love them for the frustration they cause me and for the pride they instill in me.  I love them because to me they are each perfect just the way they are.

So yeah, I've given them Tylenol and sent them to school (don't roll your eyes, you've done it too), I've used them as my excuse to get out of other things and I've hidden in the bathroom to get away from them (that's sounding really good about right now), but that doesn't change that they are my greatest accomplishments. Without them I am nothing more than a shell.  I am a Mother because that it what God created me to be.  I love them unconditionally and will love them for the rest of our lives.

"For we are God's masterpiece.  He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago." Ephesians 2:10 (NLT)

The real me...

My spouse and I are attending a community group through our church.  The group is small, and everyone is really friendly and helpful.  Last night our topic was the "real me"...the me that God created me to be.  This was a difficult topic for each of us because to be the real you, you have to accept who you are completely.  The good, the bad and the ugly you.  The parts you don't want others to know about.

This really made me think about how I view myself and why I view myself that way.  I'm a survivor.  A survivor of childhood trauma, a survivor of losing an unborn child, a survivor of a war that almost killed me...I am a survivor.  Until last night I really hadn't thought of myself that way.  I was simply an anxiety prone, depressed person with PTSD.  At least that's how I felt.  Then I realized that God did not do these things to me, he led me through them.  He allowed me to experience these things for a reason that is yet to be known to me.  A lot of people experience traumatic things in their lives and they fall down into a dark hole of despair.  They rage at God and ask why them...if I started asking why me, I may never make it up again.  I would simply be lost.

Now I'm not saying that I haven't been lost, by any means.  When I first lost my unborn child I was devastated.  Devastated beyond belief.  I was never able to hold my child in my arms, to rock her, to snuggle her, to watch her grow.  She was gone before I ever got to see her.  Well, let me rephrase that...I did see her little heartbeat, so she was as real to me as all of my other children.  I was depressed and overwhelmed. I was angry with myself, my husband and with God.  I was hopeless and wanted to just curl up and never move again.  I had to though.  I have four other children and a husband who loves me and who I love.  I was not able to disappear into my dark hole for very long.  I grieved silently for a long, long time, and there are days that I still feel that grief as if it were just yesterday.  But God reached down and made me realize that my baby, my precious longed for child was taken back to Heaven to live among the angels.  I will see her again one day and that gives me hope.

Then less than a year later I was blown up, seriously though, I was blown up.  Afghanistan, big bombs, angry people and a tent...not the best combo.  I was left with guilt for leaving my team behind.  I was feeling even more guilt for leaving the country all together.  I did not feel safe, it, they robbed me of my feelings of safety, even in my own back yard.  There are days now that I will not leave my house because of that fear.  I don't let people get close to me because I don't know who to trust, I feel lonely because I want to be alone.  I feel scared because I was robbed of my sense of safety.  I am not the same person I was when I left for that country.  In some ways I hope to never be that person again.

You may ask yourself why I would make that last statement, well I believed in God before my deployment, but I did not follow his direction.  I believed in Heaven and Hell, but I did not really think about how that affected me.  I believed in the coming tribulation, but I did not think about how my family would fare.  My life was turned around that day, 7 Aug 2012.  I know now that I need to really work on my relationship with God.  I need to follow His teachings, pray more, ask for help, read His word.  I need to get my spiritual life in order so that the rest of my life will fall in to place.

"For we must all appear before the judgement seat of Christ, that each one may receive what is due him for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad." (2 Corinthians 5:10 (NIV))