Why Is My Veteran So Anxious? The Brain's Response to Stress and Threat

Understanding what causes anxiety or the “flight or fight” response…

What happens to the brain when placed under stress or threat?

The Brain’s Response to Stress and Threat

• The thalamus senses threat, and sends signals to the amygdala and orbitofrontal cortex.
• The amygdala stores/pulls up unconscious memories. Once signaled, it triggers the sympathetic response via the hypothalamus. The hypothalamus fuels and runs both the sympathetic and parasympathetic stress systems.
• The hippocampus then provides conscious memories, placing events in context of space and time.
• The cingulate reasons with the amygdala and asks the frontal cortex areas for help with the process.
• The frontal cortex areas assess the situation, weigh options, plan and reason with the amygdala.

What is the amygdala and what role does it play in this response?

The Amygdala

The amygdala is a primitive part of our brain that keeps us alive. It stores unconscious emotional memories and triggers the body’s responses to stress and threat under stress. It also contacts the hypothalamus and sets the autonomic nervous system in motion.

The amygdala is very much like a “guard dog”. It cannot see or hear subtle differences in signals it receives from the thalamus, and it lacks conscious memories. Its memories are unconscious, primitive, and fragmented—very much like “flashbulb memories” of sound, image, scent and emotion. In its efforts to protect us, it will pull up any memories that might be related to incoming signals. That is the reason why a gunshot and champagne cork popping are all the same to the amygdala and to the mind of a veteran.

**Each time these emotional memory fragments are triggered and re-experienced, the veteran can actually be traumatized by the memories themselves, even if there is no real threat in the present.

What is the autonomic nervous systems? What role does it play in my veteran’s PTSD/anxiety symptoms?

The autonomic nervous system controls our heart rate, breathing, metabolism, energy,

perspiration, etc. It works toward balance, and has two “arms” that rise and fall in turn:

• The sympathetic nervous system, the one that speeds up processes (heart rate,

breathing, metabolism, energy, etc.) and tightens muscles

• The parasympathetic nervous system, the one that slows down these processes and

relaxes muscles

The body’s responses to stress and danger tend to fall into these two categories, sympathetic

and parasympathetic. They are meant to operate in gentle allostasis (use of change to achieve stability), with the sympathetic side rising to fight or flee from temporary threat, and the parasympathetic rising to keep us safe when we are helpless—and to quiet down the sympathetic and return us to homeostasis (a relatively stable state of equilibrium).

A useful tool for keeping these two terms straight might be to think of the sympathetic nervous

system as being “sympathetic” toward our initial need to run from danger, and the parasympathetic as being the opposite and balancing reaction.

What is the hippocampus and how is it affected by stress?

The Hippocampus

The hippocampus is responsible for the ability to store and retrieve memories. People who have experienced some kind of damage to their hippocampus experience difficulties in or the complete inability to store and recall information. Along with other limbic structures, the hippocampus also plays a role in a person's ability to overcome fear responses. Many people with PTSD experience memory-related difficulties. They may have difficulty recalling certain parts of their traumatic event, or alternatively, memories may be vivid and always present. People with PTSD may also have problems overcoming their fear response to thoughts, memories or situations that are reminiscent of their traumatic event. Due to the hippocampus' role in memory and emotional experience, it is thought that some of the problems people with PTSD experience may lie in the hippocampus. Researchers, using MRI’s, have been able to determine that the hippocampus or veterans with PTSD has actually suffered damage. They believe this damage may be under stress.

What are the psychological or mental changes in the veteran as a result of the damage to these areas of the brain?

1. Hostility/Aggression. Our veterans were accustomed to longer periods of time overseas in which they were allowed and encouraged to be hostile in order to stay alive. Because of this, once they return home some veterans may respond differently to challenges or “threats” than civilians.
2. Guilt. Many veterans have what is called “survivor’s guilt” as a result of witnessing their friends and battle comrades get seriously injured or killed. The lingering questions of “Why didn’t it happen to me?” and “What else could I have done to prevent it?” often haunt a veteran’s mind.
3. Depression/Suicide. Veterans suffering from PTSD are seven times more likely to have depression and suicidal thoughts.
4. Paranoia. When in Iraq/Afghanistan, a paranoid soldier stays alive. Everything is considered a potential threat, even a child on a bicycle. That hyper vigilant stage is extremely difficult for a soldier to put “at ease” once she returns home. Also, the damage done to the amygdala under those extreme and prolonged environments of stress can keep the veteran in that “flight or fight” response mode for months to years after returning home.
5. Lack of trust. When overseas, the soldier maintains a limited circle of trust amongst his battle comrades in order to stay alive. Everyone and anything else outside of that circle in those extreme environments are considered untrustworthy and potentially dangerous. Once a soldier returns home, it can be very difficult for him to reestablish that same trust with others, even some family members and spouses.
6. Poor coping skills. As a result of their traumatic experiences, many veterans are overwhelmed and hypersensitive by too much noise, too many people, too many changes, or too much stimuli of any sort. What may be deemed “normal” circumstances to us are not normal to the veteran.  For example, while watching a fireworks display during a local festivity may be exciting for you, the veteran may be terrified and begin to panic at what may sound to him very much like sporadic gunfire.

Understanding hyper vigilance and other combat PTSD symptoms…

What is hyper vigilance?

Hyper vigilance is one of the hyper arousal symptoms of PTSD and refers to the experience of being constantly tense and "on guard." A person experiencing this symptom of PTSD will be motivated to maintain an increased awareness of their surrounding environment, sometimes even frequently scanning the environment to identify potential sources of threat. Hyper vigilance is also often accompanied by changes in behavior, such as always choosing to sit in a far corner of a room so as to have awareness of all exits. At extreme levels, hyper vigilance may appear similar to paranoia.

Coping with hyper vigilance…

Common compulsive behaviors of hyper vigilance…

• Peeping out the windows, making sure blinds/curtains are closed
• Making sure all doors are locked in house and cars
• Keeping certain items in order at all times
• Patrolling the house at night
• Checking the perimeters outside the house
• Setting curfews and lockdowns for the family
• Scanning exits, entrances, and crowds in public places
• Having to sit facing the exits and entrances in restaurants and buildings
• Holding onto you or the children in crowded, public places

Know and understand the triggers that may spark the hyper vigilant behaviors in your veteran…

Why are many veterans with PTSD compelled to be so vigilant? 

On one hand, soldiers are trained that everything has its place and must be in that place. On the other hand, many of these behaviors that are drilled into soldiers became second nature (for many, first nature) and that meant they saved lives. Hyper alertness on the battlefield, or in a terrorist situation, or patrolling streets in Afghanistan and Iraq saves lives.

Because of this, veterans are PTSD hyper vigilant because:

1. Their military training taught them to be hyper vigilant.

2. Their brains were trained to expect danger at any moment.

3. Their hyper vigilance kept them and others alive (usually).

**Your veteran experienced danger and lived through it because of his training. Therefore, his body and soul has been conditioned to stay on constant alert, always ready for trouble. This is fine if you are on a patrol or serving in a combat zone, but it does not help when you are trying to live a “normal” life as a civilian. The problem is that the service never taught your veteran how to turn off his hyper awareness. He may have been discharged and left wound up tight inside - without any teaching or warning that he might have PTSD and exhibit hyper vigilance as part of the PTSD-Identity.

**Your veteran may not be getting the proper amount of sleep at night due to his hyper vigilant behaviors. Check with his doctor to see if any sleep medication or other methods of “winding down” at night may help your veteran get the sleep his needs.

**Be mindful of overstimulated environments which may provoke a negative response from your veteran. While some environments may be unavoidable, be prepared to find an “escape route” if necessary. You may want to introduce your veteran to certain stimuli in small increments rather than risking the panic of overstimulation. Let him get adjusted to different environments in small increments of time. For example, allow him to sit in the back of the auditorium during a child’s dance recital rather than sitting up front. He may be able to deal with the noise and incoming crowd easier that way.

Godly Assumptions

Writing Challenge #4: Rant About Anything                          June 8, 2014

Godly Assumptions

More and more I have noticed a disturbing trend…or more of an outbreak that appears to be taking over our country like a foreign bug. It has managed to penetrate not only social media and spread like wildfire, but it also resides in anyone and everyone who happens to have a brain…an opinion…or a perspective on anything.

The potentially deadly intrusion that I am referring to is called the Godly assumption. The Godly assumption can invade any well-educated or undereducated brain when least expected. It sees no difference in color, race, or ethnicity.

Social media has both empowered and enabled the human race to broadcast opinions, thoughts, and feelings on any topic…at any time of the day. And with this new sense of power the human ego has also blossomed into an unstoppable force. The Godly assumption stems from this very same ego.

We have become so comfortable with throwing words out into the social abyss that many of us have ceased to stop and think about what those words actually mean and how they affect others. I am just as guilty of doing this, and have become even more aware of the consequences that word vomit can produce the older I get.

Because we have nestled so far deeply into our safety blankets that enfold us in a cozy bubble of set ideologies and doctrines, we tend to feel that what we have to say is often the truest and most correct perspective on how things are supposed to be in this world…and in our society. We make Godly assumptions; that is, we offer up declarations and statements (meaning well) of how God intends for everything to work out…of what Jesus would do….because we just know for certain we are right (being there with Jesus and his crew back in the day).

We also love to make these Godly assumptions from our well-meaning hearts without any history reading, fact checking or any credible experience in what someone else is going through. More often than not, we have not walked in that person’s shoes nor have we even bothered to truly understand where they are coming from in their personal situation. When these Godly assumptions beat at the enamel on our teeth..anxious to burst forth into the open, we tend to narrow down the world to a planet bathed in black and white…with no shades of grey or color in between. For those people that live in a world of many colors, such costly assumptions can dry out a once luscious, beautiful soul into a mere dry husk.

No matter what particular faith or doctrine we adhere to…we should never be so self-righteous as to consider ourselves experts on the supreme beings that we strive to serve. On days when I catch myself about to assert my “knowledge” upon someone else, I can’t help but sit back and think…do I really know? Or do I just think I know? By saying these words, am I really serving the Holy Spirit in a way that helps others? Or will my words cause an innocent ripple to turn into an unintentional tidal wave of hypocrisy and negativity?  The hardest part of being human, I feel, is admitting when we are wrong…or that we just simply don’t know as much as we think we do.  Throughout the rest of my life, I can only pray, hope and strive to be as close as possible to the God that I love….but it is neither my right nor my purpose here on Earth to take words from His mouth and spew them out as my own. The older I get, the more I see that ending badly for everyone involved. There is a difference between offering words of encouragement and guidance with Scripture and faith and using one’s faith to make these Godly Assumptions that you are in no position to make. I can only hope as I get older, that I will be able to remember how to listen before judging, and to act with love rather than animosity.

Patience, Prayer, and Peace

John 14:27 “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. “

 

Psalm 37:7  “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him.”

 

Patience has been chasing me throughout my entire life. Every once in a while, I may slow down just long enough to let it catch up with me, but then I’m off again running frantically towards the finish line.  As a child, I always wanted to know the answers to everything, and I wanted to know them yesterday. Even at seven years old, I wanted my baby brother to arrive early. Why would anyone want to wait a whole nine months to have someone to play with?  I had my own agenda set for each day, and I planned on sticking to it. Now, don’t get me wrong—my parents did a great job of instilling the rules of good ‘ol Southern etiquette into my young mind. I knew how to sit still and be quiet when told, especially in church; yet no matter how still I sat my mind would be racing with all kinds of unanswered questions. Sometimes I thought I would explode from keeping all of them in at once.

 

Since God blessed me with an eager and precocious spirit, He knew that my parents would have their hands full trying to implement the virtue of patience into such an inquisitive soul like mine. The first lesson I remember as a child resulted in a tender, burned chin when I was around five years old. Not heeding my mother’s warning about standing too close to the kitchen counter, I simply could not wait for the pan of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies to cool off before trying to get in a good whiff of chocolate goodness. Unfortunately, a burned chin didn’t quite do the trick. It seemed patience was destined to continuously follow me, no matter how hard I tried to escape it.  Thankfully, I was blessed to have two parents that exhibited a sincere appreciation for nature and all of its beauty. Seeing an opportunity to teach me yet another lesson in patience, my Daddy created a game in which we would sit on the back porch, close our eyes, and listen to all the sounds of the evening as the sun was setting over the field. When we opened our eyes again, we would identify all the different sounds of nature that we had heard. My daddy also taught me how to tread lightly while walking in the woods, so that I had the opportunity to see what beautiful creatures lie waiting in the stillness. Soon, I was able to see a fox mother running back to her den, a deer drinking water from a creek, and many other things. I began thinking---you know, there’s something to this whole idea of having patience. For the first time, I began to understand what my parents were trying to teach me.  Still, to this day I feel most at peace when I’m walking through the woods or sitting beside the water.  It has a very soothing effect on my troubled soul, knowing that the Lord provides this sanctuary in a way no one else can.  As a child, I had no idea of the many ways God would show His love—and provide for me in the years to come.

 

In the book of John 14:27, Jesus comforts His disciples by saying, “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.”  He wanted to reassure them that something greater and more wonderful than they could ever imagine was yet to come after his passing. Jesus wanted his loved ones to remain strong in their faith and not to fear what lie ahead in their journey with Him.  I wish I had known this scripture by heart when I was younger, as I watched cancer and Alzheimer’s take their toll on the people I loved most. I struggled for years, wanting to understand how God was working through my life and why we had to say goodbye to so many that we loved. Sadly, my stubborn nature caused me to question my faith for several years as a young adult because of my inability to cope with what I was feeling, not wanting to let that sacred peace into my heart and too impatient to be still and listen to his words of comfort and love.  And so I ran again…and patience was left behind once more. In time, He knew I would come to understand the true meaning of Jesus’ words to the disciples.

 

According to Psalm 37:7, we should “Be still for the Lord and wait patiently for Him.” This was the last thing on my mind as I pushed through college and found myself entering an exciting new world. I thought I was completely sure of myself—I had big plans and everything was going to fall into place.  I had no patience for advice from others who knew better because I knew it all. I was certain that I was making all the best decision in my relationships, making the right career choices, and living my life to the fullest. I did all of these things without giving much thought to what God wanted me to do….and I didn’t realize just how unhappy and unhealthy I was becoming on the inside. Twice, I went to Honduras on mission trips and fell in love with the people there that seemed to have a peace that came so naturally despite the poverty that reigned in their small towns. The void in my heart grew deeper each time I returned home, falling into a depression of sorts and not knowing how or what was causing it.  I began experiencing anxiety attacks on a weekly basis, and using bottles of wine to battle my constant frazzled state. Some say the Lord brings us into valleys of darkness and despair in order for us to realize that we were not designed to be in control. I fell headlong into my valley when one evening, in January of 2010, I hit an emotional wall after years of disappointing relationships, unexpected hurdles in my career, and the loss of two close relatives over the course of two years. I was suffering from an emptiness in my heart that put me on my knees in tears, begging the Lord for the peace that I had pushed aside so long ago.

 

That night I sat on the floor against my bed, truly listening to God for the first time in years. I remember telling Him that I finally understood; I was ready to follow and obey, and though I knew it would be difficult….I was ready to be patient, to listen, and to accept the peace that only He could offer.  Only a few weeks later, on February 9^th, my life began anew when I met my future husband. Freshly released from the hospital, I met the love of my life just two weeks and three days into his recovery after being shot by a sniper in Kirkuk, Iraq. Passing through his shoulder and into his chest, the bullet barely missed his heart, instead taking out a good portion of his left lung and causing it to collapse. Losing the amount of blood that he did while being escorted to the humvee, he shouldn’t be alive today. But on February 9^th of 2010, God knew what He was doing when he spared my husband’s life and brought him home to his family….and to me. Two nights after we met, we went on our first date and within only a few short weeks we knew this was the real deal. God was showing me an outright miracle, and I wasn’t about to let this one go.

 

At the end of April, God held my hand as I watched my love walk away to board another plane, returning to Iraq to complete his tour in Kirkuk through October, despite both the physical and mental wounds that had not yet fully healed. I remember asking God, “How can I keep this peace within my heart? How can I patiently sit here and wait, not knowing what will happen to him or whether or not he will come back to me?” This would be the most difficult challenge that God would place before me. For six months I prayed…and listened. Those nights I didn’t hear from my husband, I listened to God and asked for a renewal of strength as well as praying for the safety of his unit. Over the course of his last few months in Iraq, my husband lost two comrades (one to suicide and the other in Afghanistan), one of his men came home with a gun shot wound to the stomach, and his quad just barely survived another aggressive firefight before finally leaving. My husband came home to me but, like so many others, was not the same once he returned. God had proven once again that He had a different path laid out for both of us. Knowing that God has put us together for a reason, we were engaged by December and married the following June. Four months into our marriage, I felt that God had been testing my newfound patience over the years in preparation for calling me to make a career choice that was a little out of my comfort zone. Accepting a job with Operation Family Caregiver, I began working with caregivers and family members of returning service members who were having difficulty coping with PTSD, TBI, and other conditions within the home. With a twist of irony, God was now directing me, a naturally anxious person, to counsel others on how to implement the virtues of patience and peace within their homes amidst the turmoil currently taking over.

 

As I’m sure you all know from your own experience, watching a family suffer from conditions caused not by any fault of their own is heart wrenching, to say the least. At times, I felt overwhelmed with guilt for not being able to provide such simple solutions that would suddenly make everything better.  And although I doubted myself frequently, God continued to provide for me, giving me strength to take on the burdens that weighed upon those families and coaching them into finding their own sense of peace and creating solutions to their problems. It takes more than time to heal wounds like PTSD that run deep into the soul, and unfortunately most families that deal with such conditions will never be the same again.  For those caregivers that wished for spiritual encouragement, we discussed Bible verses such as those I have quoted today and talked about showing love and compassion above all else while caring for their loved ones.  Some of those families are struggling today. I pray for them still, knowing that my husband and I will also fall into our own valleys from time to time as we battle his conditions as well. No matter what we endure, however, I know that God will continue to whisper, “Be still, my children and wait for me.”

 

We never know what complex and beautiful plans God has designed for each of us until we close our mouths, open our hearts and truly listen. Jesus assured the disciples not to be afraid, to accept a kind of peace that only our Heavenly Father can offer. The journey may sometimes frighten you, take you completely out of your comfort zone, and even lead you entirely off the beaten path—but with a little peace and a tad bit of patience, God will take you where you were always meant to be.

Rediscovering Grace: Part Two

Romans 15:7, "So reach out and welcome one another to God's glory. Jesus did it; now you do it."

Rediscovering Grace: Part Two

Now that a few months have gone by, Charles and I are happily settling into a new routine with Calvary Episcopal Church here in Americus, GA. We have begun a new season in our lives, and like all new seasons there have come adjustments and modifications.

On this search for a newfound grace, I have felt a stirring of sorts to GO and DO.  I tend to feel this way any time change occurs in my life, but this time I sense a different breeze a 'blowing. Being stuck in between jobs right now, I have had a lot of time to myself to clean and think, write and think, and simply just sit and well, think some more.

Looking for new employment, grad school programs, and that perpetually lost shoe that Riley has stuck somewhere in our house has taken up plenty of my free time; yet, I have felt constantly pulled at the same time to explore this new sense of grace that this spiritual journey has so carefully woven into our path.

This morning I read a devotional that really struck a chord with me because it explained in three simple points exactly the type of grace that I've been exploring. So, I'd like to paraphrase a little and lay out these points that I feel have been on my mind for a reason...because I can :)

1. Go near. By going close, we see things we need to see. Why are we so afraid to go out of our comfort zones, step out of our bubbles and step forward. Just another step is all it takes, yet I am so guilty of taking that one step back at times. I've always found much more satisfaction when I have chosen to go the distance and just get out there to meet someone new..someone who may be a little different, but in a beautiful way. A smile, a touch, and compliment. Three simple gifts that are so pure and sincere, yet we hold them in rather than use them to make others happy.

2. Gain understanding. Let someone else's agenda come before your own. Man, this one is the hardest for me to follow on a daily basis. Often, when we most sincerely want to help others we tend to talk at them rather than simply shut up and listen. Especially when we feel that we are in the right, and they are in the wrong. I don't enjoy it when people do this to me, but yet I end up doing the exact same thing to others. Over the past year, God and I have been working hard together...Him keeping a firm hand over my mouth and me trying to fight Him less and less to get those words that I feel are so pertinent out of my clamped lips. Have I mastered the art of listening this year? Heck, no! My husband, parents, and friends will be the first to tell you. But you know what? When I let someone just be, and let them talk...I have gained...I have learned...and I have loved them even more than I did when I first met them. Which brings us to the last point.

3. Earn the right to share. We must to go people, listen to people, and start where they are, not where we want them to be. Have you ever been ashamed or embarrassed to share your feelings or situation with someone because you felt you were a little beneath their level of understanding? That perhaps they have a much firmer grasp of how you should be living out your life and solving your problems than you do? Well, you are looking at a perfect example of this type of specimen right here. I tend to hold a lot of my issues inside out of fear that I'll simply be told what to do rather than honestly heard. And because of those experiences, I also tend to want to give advice to those that I feel need it best...therefore, I have succeeded in placing those people in exactly the same position that I desire least. Start where you can with someone, share your empathy...not your sympathy and advise. Let them know it's okay to be where they are and that in time things mat get better or they may not...but either way you will be there for them.

The gift of grace, to me, is a tapestry woven so complex and intricately throughout our lives that it can be almost imperceptible, but it's there when we hear a laugh that we haven't heard in days...or a sigh when someone lets that small worry go for a day. It's having patience when your child hides a different shoe in each corner of the house and appreciating the imagination it took to get it there. It's holding that smart retort in when your husband doesn't complete a household task in a timely manner and remembering that you have a loving, living husband in your home, period.

We shall see what the next few months brings for our family, but as for me...I know that regardless of whatever work comes my way, I can rely on God and grace to get me to the places I'm meant to be.

Rediscovering Grace: Part I

Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood/
Teach us to care and not to care/
Teach us to sit still

---excerpt from T.S. Eliot's "Ash Wednesday"

It's odd how quickly the seasons of life can change. This epiphany suddenly struck me as I was listening to the usual whir of my Keurig machine one morning this past week, watching one of my favorite parts of the day in action.  It was a normal day, same as any other: get up, pick up Riley, change and dress Riley, attempt to eat breakfast whilst feeding Riley, talk with husband about the day ahead whilst tending to Riley, get ready in twenty minutes while husband wrangles Riley, then finally making my thermos of coffee to take to work.

Usually I zone out while taking in the therapeutic aroma of a good Columbian roast, but this time something stirred within me, and I knew that something good...something just right was working its way into our lives.  I like to call it GRACE.

For the past two months, Charles and I have taken a leap together towards rediscovering our faith by attending a new church. Not only is a new church, but it's also a new denomination. We are "swimming up the stream", I guess you could say, by attending an Episcopal church after growing up Methodist. We have been attending Confirmation classes, practicing the appropriate aerobics during the church services by learning when to kneel, then sit, then bow to the cross for communion, then kneel, then...ummm...sit. Yeah, then we sit.

Overall, the process has been enlightening. We have discovered not only a newfound eagerness to get up and go on Sunday mornings, but we've also grown as a couple since we've begun this journey together. I've always respected my husband, but now that we've found a place where we can worship together as a family, I feel myself falling in love with him on a deeper level. His willingness to attend the classes with me, to go to the family night suppers, and even participate in reading new literature with me has revealed this entirley new and fascinating side to the man that I thought I knew so well.

GRACE has begun to dig its roots into corners of my heart where cynicism and wariness used to reside.  And I'm finally okay with that. It's a good, healthy kind of feeling, you know?

It's only the beginning of this mystical and spiritual journey, but already I'm hearing God telling us that we need to try harder at being still and listening when we want to speak, to care when we need to care but not take life's many distractions too seriously, to know what is false or a cheap illusion of happiness.

GRACE has finally begun to weave itself in and out of our daily routines that suddenly don't appear to be mundance as we once thought.  It's going to take a lot of hard work...and a lot of patience to keep it around, but I'm feeling that this is definitely the season for change.

Missing That Girl

After reading one of my sweet friend's recent blogs, her words really resonated with me. She spoke of the feeling of disappearing, of losing parts of yourself and the struggle to find your identity again. Some days I really think God brought this cool chick into my life, because I feel we share similar struggles and frustrations.

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE married life, and I love being a mother even more. Right now, I honestly don't know what I would do if my husband and daughter were taken from  my life. I've entered a scary, exciting, frustrating, and very blessed new phase of my life that I've always wanted since I was a little girl. Deep down, I always knew that I was meant to have a partner and a family. I'm a natural nurturer. Knowing full well the types of roles I wanted to serve in the latter part of my life, I should be completely and utterly satisfied with all that I have been blessed with so far, right? Right? So, why is it that I often feel guilty for missing something? I miss THAT GIRL.

Who is THAT GIRL? Parts of the old me. Some days when I have time to myself at work or at home, I get that anxious, antsy feeling. Like there's someone else in the room with me. Sometimes, I honestly think that if I look up, I'll see the ghost of her standing in my office doorway. Quietly waiting, gazing at me with sad eyes. As if I've left her behind, and she's been hopefully waiting for me to come back and take her by the hand for one last adventure.

Not that I loved every single part of the old me, but as a whole it was pretty fantastic. After all, my husband did fall in love with it. She was fiercely independent, loving her late night runs through town, wearing only running shorts and a sports bra...bearing a knife in one hand. She loved making all her favorite foods whenever she wanted, eating her special cheese dip and chips for dinner until she burst, drinking wine and shamelessly smoking a cigar outside her apartment, watching a storm roll in and not going back inside until she felt the sweet kiss of the rain.

THAT GIRL read a lot of books. A lot of books. And watched only her favorite shows on T.V., which were usually involving something on TLC, Animal Planet, and Discovery. She loved sleeping in the pitch black dark, and listening to the cacophony of coyotes, owls, tree frogs, crickets and cicadas as they lulled her to sleep. That girl was completely unafraid of walking down to the banks of the ponds alone on a clear night, lying down on the grass with a glass of merlot, and gazing up at the stars...feeling as if she could slowly sink into the warmth of the earth. And it would be okay.

She could feel wonderfully feral at times, walking through the woods on her own, digging up arrowheads, caressing the leaves of the ferns by the water before stepping into its coolness to take a late afternoon dip. She was capable of building her own fire in the fireplace, unclogging her own sink, replacing her own light bulbs, and climbing onto the roof to sweep off the rotting leaves. She killed her own spiders and snakes, and paid her own bills. She would laugh and play into the wee hours of the night. She wrote her ideas and story lines down on bar napkins and little notebooks, and would often write until her hand ached...then write some more.

The old me was deliciously FREE. But...with that freedom there was also loneliness. Another type of hunger always lay dormant, no matter how independent I tried to be. I needed a family of my own. In some ways, it's nice to be "tamed". I enjoy pleasing my family, and taking on more of a domestic role at this point in my life. In other ways, that untamed ghost of a girl will continue to haunt me. More and more I realize that I can still hold onto that girl, but some of our adventures will have to wait. I don't want to settle and completely strip myself of her, but rather I want to bring her back bit by bit into my life so that Riley can grow up with her and appreciate what it means to be THAT GIRL. I want her to have the same fire...the same passion that will take her everywhere she wants to go...and let it take her even further than it took me.

It's time for HER, THAT GIRL...to be awakened once again.

What Holds Us Back?

For some reason, the busier I get the more I want to keep doing...and keep giving. I will work myself up into a frenzy trying to please others, making sure I'm doing my job well, trying to live up to everyone's standards...and my own.  The adrenaline gets to pumping, all of these wonderful ideas and volunteering opportunities will swim through my head, and I tell myself, "Yes! I can do this! And this! I can do it all!" After a few weeks of busy bliss, I soon find myself hitting that wall...or more like a fortress...or barricade. Whatever visual you want to conjure.

That is when I realize, after lying exhausted in bed with a headache/backache/severe case of the "woe is me", that I'm not feeling happy or fulfilled. Just tired. Really tired. And bitter. Bitter because I simply didn't have enough hours in the day to be an oustanding wife, a good daughter, a motivated employee, or a selfless citizen...at least not to the standard at which I had set for myself.  I let myself fall into that stinky pit of self-pity, narcissism, and the "if only's".

Lately, I've been reading more scripture and devotionals to help guide me onto a more fulfulling path for my life. I have not come into a "reawakening" by any means, but the more I wear myself out over worry and stress, especially over silly things, the more I want to get back to the basics of life. What is holding me back? Or what is holding us back in general from being truly happy in this world? How have we convinced ourselves that happiness lies in performing up to a certain standard all the time, or letting the views and opinions of others affect us to the point where we burn ourselves down to the wick?  How can we simplify our lives and reach for what makes us happy, moral, and humble citizens?

Over the past couple of years, through what my job has shown me about human suffering, I have gotten better at not letting other's opinions and comments affect me...just letting more and more roll off my back. But it's not enough these days...searching for happiness needs to be a permanent fixture in your daily routine in order for it to take effect. Being at peace with yourself is a good start...but how do we accomplish that?

When we are continuously giving and giving, but not getting any true joy out of how we give or what we give...how can we be satisfied with ourselves and show joy and love to others? There is such a thing as giving too much...Mother Teresa even said that (the most giving and gracious woman in history besides Mary). God proposes that we find a balance between giving to others of our time and giving to ourselves.  What we preach from my job is that, "If you aren't taking care of yourself, how do you expect to help take care of others...to give your time and effort to others?"

What is holding us back from reaching that balance where we can be content to give to others, but also give to ourselves and our families without makign ourselves sick? That is not what God intended.  So, this month I have decided to take charge of my attitude and approach to life. It is time to simplify. Each week I would like to make a list of I feel God is calling me to do with my time, and get my priorities in order.  A new path, a new light, and a new hope lies before me...and I'm pretty darn excited about it. Who's with me?