Getting Lost and Getting Found

“Don't compromise yourself. You're all you've got.”
― Janis Joplin

I've been lost. Seriously, epically lost - the type of lost when you realize that you are so far from where you're supposed to be that you wonder and then despair at ever getting back to where you wanted to go in the first place.

I've been struggling, really struggling for about three years, with last year being a nightmare to navigate. 2013 was a year that I clawed, kicked and hacked my way through one day, one hour, one minute. I've never fought so hard in my life, to keep my life.

My Dad was mentally ill. I watched the illness consume him, bit by bit until the brilliant and unorthodox man I knew and loved was utterly eaten by insanity. His brain shrunk, the white matter in his mind corroded like a unwanted battery. What made the loss more devastating was that there was a part of me that watched what was happening to my father and wondered when, not if, something similar would happen to me.

Madness of the lethal variety runs in our family. My grandfather had it and blew his brains out. My father had it and was devoured. A cousin who shares my name had it and drank a gallon of insecticide to escape. I have it and nearly lost my life this past year to psychotic reasoning that my family was better off without me in it. One of my children has it and struggles on nearly a daily basis not to hurt himself. The fact that I passed this disease on to one of my babies has broken my heart.,

2013 was a year where I struggled to come to peace with such a violent genetic heritage. I rang in the new year with a trip to a psychiatric hospital after becoming deeply suicidal and making final preparations to end my life. My sister thankfully intervened and gave me the choice to go to the hospital in her car or in an ambulance.

When I went to the hospital they made me strip, documented the self-inflicted injuries and eventually put me in a room to rest. The room was suicide proof, which means that it wasn't very comfortable to sleep in. That night, dressed in a hospital gown with snaps (no ties) I tried to make sense of a world that was anything but sensible. I could hear other women in the ward moaning and crying and after a while I joined in, keening my heartbreak. I was convinced that I was better off dead than alive and damaged in the head.

A year (nearly to the day) has passed. I have a name for my pain (Bi-Polar, Type 2 with Psychotic Features) I have a team of doctors that I work with to keep my brain chemicals balanced. My condition is chronic and progressive. I'm on serious anti-psychotic and anti-depressive medication that I'll likely take for the rest of my life. The medicine makes me sick and has caused me to gain some weight and won't protect me from ever relapsing again. Still, it's a small price to pay for being here.

And that is the crux of it. I'm still here. I'm still alive. This damnable disease hasn't won. Will I continue to struggle ? Yes. Is a relapse possible. Yes, in fact it's likely.  But I can't focus on that. I can't focus on the what if's - I have to cling to the what are's if that makes any sense.

I still have bad days. Sometimes I have a bad week or two in a row. I'm not performing at 100% despite my best efforts. 100% will take time. Thankfully, I have that time because I'm still alive.

I'm still alive. 

I'm keenly aware of my life now and don't take my existence for granted like I used to. Each day I'm here is a day worth celebrating. Perhaps that's why I am trying to find happiness in simply drawing breath, in each little victory, no matter how small. This year my theme is all about teaching myself joy over and over again.

I decided to be open about what happened to me because I think it's the right thing to do and I'm sick of pretending that everything is amazing when in fact, it's not nearly that simple. I also decided to be more up front about things because mental illness is a lot more common than people think and perhaps someone who reads this is also struggling.

Yes, I've been lost, but I feel for the first time in a very long time that I can see a hint of the road that I'm supposed to take. I know it will be difficult, but I am determined to get back on it make up for the lost time. Here's to a better year for everyone and being less lost and more found in every way.

It's already January and I haven't got my goals finalized yet. This is of course a problem, one I intend to rectify right now.

Yes, I do New Year's Goals and I am one of those odd ducks that tend to follow through on them. My completion rate isn't perfect, but it's pretty good, averaging around 85% for all the goals that I write.

So here they are - my goals for the new year.

Jenn’s 2014 Goals

Go on a date with Clyde once a week

Get the piano tuned – Memorize something challenging and beautiful  

Go on a date with the boys (each) once per month

Draw or paint something at least once a week           

Work on my journal

Visit a monastery, nunnery or spiritual retreat

Learn to use watercolor pencils

Have a LOTR Marathon

Create a realistic graduation schedule and stick to it

Have a family vacation

Absolutely exceed expectations at work - Have fun doing it – rejoice in every learning experience

Perfect the art of a beautifully written letter – write family and friends at least once a month

Ensure that I pray and read the scriptures

Host parties for the following times or events:

v              New Years Celebration

v              Chinese New Year

v              Summer Solstice

v              A star-gazing party

Learn to prepare 12 new recipies that are delicious

X X X X X X X X X X X X

Take a class at the fitness center.

Complete Hunters Saftey with the Boys

Spend time at the ocean

Spend a weekend soaking up the sun

Spend a weekend playing in the snow

Spend a weekend in a mountain forrest

Go on a bike ride

Create 72 Hour Kit for the family and participate in disaster planning activities – create a family plan

Use Telescope six times and Join Salt Lake Astronommical Society   X X X X X X

Remodel living room

Find four incredible restaurants X X X X

Complete the following:

v            Fired, glazed ceramic

v            Sewing project

v            Flower Arrangement

v            Take an art class

Learn how to change oil, spark plugs, automotive fluids, etc. for my car

W.M.O.B.

Create a family game kit – set up recurring game night

Be active in the 2014 Electoral Process

Get in the habit of working out

Go the symphony (X ) Ballet (X) and Theatre (X)

Plant an herb garden X

Learn to make lemon curd, fruit chutney, jellies and jams, caramel, marshmallows and fudge

Complete a physical and full dental exam

Learn to live a life without fear.

Schedule An Escape Weekend for Mom / Sisters

Go to a Spa

Have  Sherlock Marathon

Work on home organization (love the process of being a wife and homemaker)

Teach myself joy, over and over again…

“In my own worst seasons I've come back from the colorless world of despair by forcing myself to look hard, for a long time, at a single glorious thing: a flame of red geranium outside my bedroom window. And then another: my daughter in a yellow dress. And another: the perfect outline of a full, dark sphere behind the crescent moon. Until I learned to be in love with my life again. Like a stroke victim retraining new parts of the brain to grasp lost skills, I have taught myself joy, over and over again.”
― Barbara Kingsolver, High Tide In Tucson: Essays From Now Or Never

This is my goal for 2014 and my theme. I love how poignantly Kingsolver understands and addresses the hardship of dealing with despair and depression and shows in her writing that the remedy for this sad state is not easily or quickly won, but comes bit by bit and little by little until the brain is restored and perhaps even improved upon. Here's to finding and focusing on glorious things and people in this world and getting better one day at a time. 

Happiness is not something ready made. It comes from your own actions.

What's this? An update?
No, the world isn't coming to an end. Let us say instead, that certain life experiences have made a reluctant blogger realize that sharing one's story may help someone else who is struggling to stay afloat and that it will certainly help me along the path to living a happier life.
What is happiness? For me it is being in a state of positive peace, free from anxiety and fear and filled with delightful purpose. Happiness is on the sunny side of the being at peace spectrum, a state that is finite, but unbelievably enjoyable. Lately, I've found myself on the "meh" side, being neither very upset nor deliriously happy, rather somewhere slightly off center where I just am.
This is not where I would like to be. Nope. Not a bit.
Life is a blessing, a feast of experiences or the soul and for the senses.
There's no time to be lolly-gagging left off center, no reason to look at a brand new day with a lackluster, slack-jawed gaze. It is as found in Romans, a high time to awake, cast off the darkness and put on the armor of light.
This is why I am writing again on this blog, to try and chronicle my attempt at getting back to center and ridding myself of this meddlesome emotional mediocrity. I owe it to my friends and family.
I owe it to myself. 

I am determined to be cheerful and happy in whatever situation I may find myself. For I have learned that the greater part of our misery or unhappiness is determined not by our circumstance but by our disposition.
Martha Washington 

Lessons Learned in the Old World

As as American (one who was especially interested in history) I studied and ready about the Holocaust. In high school, a survivor of this monstrosity came and spoke to my school. Reading, listening and understanding as much as I could about an event however, could not have possibly prepared me for going to a place where people deliberately planned and implemented programs to subjugate and slaughter their fellow human beings. Walking along the tracks that led to Dachau, looking at the clothing that inmates were forced to wear in the concentration camps, gazing up in absolute horror at the hideous propaganda that was unleashed by the Reich - it was a heart wrenching experience.  Germany is a beautiful place, the land is some of the most beautiful I've ever seen. Reconciling this pastoral environment against the nightmare of the "final solution" proved elusive for me, at least for this visit. The horror and the loss of an entire people (over 90% of the entire Jewish population in Germany were killed) is too terrible to even comprehend and cast a chilly, somber pall on my adventures. Being mistaken for being a Muslim while in some parts of the country and experiencing a surprisingly scary amount of hostility simply because of my skin color made me realize that even with a lesson as terrible as this one, there will always be idiots who fail to learn from history and are hellbent on perpetuating the same atrocious acts of unkindness against our brothers and sisters.  

This picture was taken in the crypt of the Berlin Cathedral. The angel is sitting in Jesus' empty tomb and saying, "HE is not here, HE is risen." My testimony of the Lord's goodness and mercy was strengthened on this trip. Boo and I went to a church in Berlin that has systematically been attacked, first by the Nazi's then the Communists. There was a hallway where pictures of church members (some priests, most members of the congregation) who had either been imprisoned or murdered as a result of their beliefs or because they had tried to help their neighbors. People of all ages, both male and female, rich and poor gave up their lives for something that they believed in and as my sister and I worshiped in the church, nicknamed the upside down teacup, we both felt very strongly that their sacrifices, hopes and works had been accepted by the Lord and that these brave people had truly lived up to the scripture in 2 Timothy 4:7 " I HAVE FOUGHT THE GOOD FIGHT, I HAVE FINISHED MY COURSE, I HAVE KEPT THE FAITH."

This is St. Martin in the Fields, a church in London that was built by Henry VIII so that people who were suffering from plague and needed the attention of a priest wouldn't come into contact with the main population of London. This was were the poorest, and sickest of the populace went for succor and was, literally out in some fields. Growing up, we all listened to classical music that was performed in this place, or by the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. To me, this place, this name, was synonymous with good music (especially Mozart and Bach) and also my father. He was very particular when buying tapes that he would find something that had been recorded at St. Martins and would reply, when asked why his preferences ran the way they did, that "It's the best...that's why." So, it was with a mixture of Joy, loneliness, sorrow and a bittersweet sense of peace, that I sat and listened to an absolutely amazing performance (Baroque Style -that was beyond brilliant).  I couldn't keep my eyes dry. My heart was overflowing, from a wonderfully poignant mixture of passionately performed music and the knowledge that the man who had helped instill in my a love of this type of music wasn't sitting beside me on that wooden bench. It broke my heart in a way and reminded me, how fleeing and fragile life is and how we can't take a musical measure or day beside a loved one for granted.

What can I say...DENMARK IS AMAZING! My mother's family and husband's family comes from this country and I felt an immediate kinship with the land. Denmark reminds me very much of my mother and husband. The people are kind, hardworking and have a great sense of humor. The building style is brilliant - simple in statement, perfect in form. Clyde's family were, based on the lands they lived in, quite the adventurers. (fjords, fjords and more fjords, all along known viking settlements) After feeling the delightfully salty, cold sting of sea spray and being thoroughly buffeted by the wind, I felt that they must have been very strong and resolute as well. I felt very much at home here, and am determined to take my family back next year so that they too, can gain a better understanding of where they are from and why being aware of your past helps you appreciate your present and look forward to the future. Denmark is cold, wet and as green as Oz. I think of our ancestors going from this beautiful place and ending up Arid, dusty Sampete county and just want to cry for them. How lonely they must have been, not having the sea, rich black soil and beautiful green trees to shelter them from the elements. Not being quite as tough as my fore bearers, I would have taken a return train back to Denmark or somewhere a little greener and nicer.

Adventures to Europe are always nice. Being on an adventure with your sister....is a delightful dream come true. Boo and I have very different personalities, but they blend very well. She is such a dear friend and I am so lucky that I had the chance to spend time with her and get to know her better. I LOVE YOU, REBECCA!

Finally, a word about tea and scones. My heavens - they are addicting. I think there is a scone loving gene in my DNA that has emerged upon my nibbling and sipping this fantastic culinary concoction in London and Bath. It's a part of my heritage, a wonderful crumbly nibble of family history that I am having fun replicating and passing on to my children. England, even more than Denmark, because I am already pretty familiar with it, is home to me. I know the land and it knows and welcomes me into it. 

This happy breed of men people, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,

Richard II - William Shakespeare

Jenn's (Butt Kicking) English Scones

Jenn's Butt Kicking Scones (Yes, this is the actual name)

4 cups flour
1 cup sugar... See more
6 teaspons baking powder
1 tsp salt
1.5 cups dried fruit (I use 1/2 golden raisins and 1/2 dried cranberries)
2 tsp. vanilla (the better the quality - the better the taste)
2.5 cups heavy whipping cream 

Cover dried fruit with orange juice for five minutes. Set aside. Mix your dry ingredients. Make a well. Drain dried fruit. Add to well. Add vanilla and heavy cream. Using a pastry cutter, gently and minimally mix everything together. Don't knead the dough. Mix until moist. Cut dough up and place on greased cookie sheet. Cook for about 15 minutes at 425 degrees. Serve piping hot with clotted cream and preserves. ENJOY