The What If's

~I'm not quite sure where this post will lead. Just thinking outloud about some things that have been heavy on my heart for some time.~

A few years ago while driving down Western street, I passed Paramount Baptist Church and their marquee caught my attention. It read: "It's not too late to be the person who you might have been."

I immediately wrote it down on the back of a receipt I had found in my center console. When I got home, I added it to my Favorite Quotes, Scriptures, & Poems list on the sidebar of this blog.

I haven't forgotten that quote. In fact I see it every time I scroll through my blog.

I have a horrible habit of playing the "what if" game in my head. I've even tried to "what if" my way out of an argument a few times.

The biggest "what if" that goes through my mind is "what if I hadn't gotten pregnant with Cody". Now, let me preface this part of my post with... I love Cody more than anything and by me even throwing out the thought of "what if I had not gotten pregnant" is no way a regret in him in any way. I can not imagine my life without him. But, as much as I love him and as much as I can't imagine life without him, it doesn't stop me from having this particular "what if" thought.

I can't help but wonder who I might be today had those little pink lines on the pregnancy test been one line instead of two. Is it wrong to wonder? Am I doing more harm than good by even what if-ing this part of my life? Because in the end, it really doesn't matter. There were 2 pink lines staring me back in the face that day. All the reality and irresponsibility of my sin and disobedience was right there. The path of my life just took a turn down a road that wasn't planned.

Sometimes I wonder if this what-if question is to blame from lack of forgiving myself. I think I've been carrying this around with me for 16 years. Had I truly forgiven myself though the years, would this what-if question still linger as strongly? Would this particular what if question still bring me tears all these years later?

When I discovered an opening for a registered nurse for Worth the Wait 3 years ago, I knew this was the job for me. (Worth the Wait is a non-profit organization that promotes abstinence until marriage and encourages teenagers to avoid all high risk behaviors.) I had never felt such a strong desire to be apart of a program. I was elated when I was hired.

I remember telling the founder and the director at that time of WTW during my interview, how I felt this job would help heal me, how it would help allow me to forgive myself. Looking back, that probably wasn't the best thing to say during an interview.... "hire me because this job will help heal what's wrong with me". This was unlike any interview, though. There were tears... many tears. There was a comfortable and open feeling in this room of 3 women. 3 who wanted to change the world and decrease the number of teenage pregnancies in our area, and also one in that group who wanted to forgive what was broken inside her.

I miss working full time for WTW. It's been months since I last stepped into a high school classroom and taught. I loved telling my story at the end of the lesson to teenagers. Sometimes, I don't necessarily think my story is a success story... there are days and moments when I struggle and fail within my marriage. While I am being honest and open here... another what if question I struggle with is... what if we hadn't gotten pregnant... where would mine and Michael's life be today? (I'm going to end that thought here.)

Forgiveness is hard. I know it is commanded upon us that we are to forgive others. What about ourselves though? How do you forgive an action that completely changed your life forever?

Another favorite quote/saying I have is this:

Forgiveness

If I cannot forgive myself

For all the blunders

That I have made

Over the years,

Then how can I proceed?

How can I ever

Dream perfection-dreams?

Move, I must, forward.

Fly, I must, upward.

Dive, I must, inward,

To be once more

What I truly am

And shall forever remain.

-Sri Chinmoy

Through forgiveness, can I be "once more what I truly am"? I think this ties into my last post on depression and finding me.

This is a journey of my life. Thinking outloud as I go.

~jen

Intervention

I love watching A&E's Intervention. While I don't struggle with any drug or alcohol addiction, I am in need of an intervention.
For years I have suffered with depression. I've been on antidepressant medications off and on. More years without than with.
I seem to be in a funk lately. Unhappy with several aspects of my life. I find myself crying more than laughing. Breaking down at a moments notice, sometimes for no real reason. Although over the last couple of weeks, just struggling with Cody turning sixteen has brought many tears.
For the last several Sundays, I have sobbed at church. From the moment the first praise song starts to the very last prayer, I sit and cry. I am sure those sitting near me must wonder what is wrong with me each and every Sunday. I have wondered on more than one occasion just what is wrong with me.
Why can't I be happy? This person that I am today is not who I once was. There was a time when I was so very happy, bubbly, always smiling, always laughing, confident, outgoing, carefree, fearless. Do you know at one point I was fearless? Today, I see myself as shy, quiet, withdrawn, embarrassed, ugly, ashamed, sad, unhappy, depressed.
There are days that I don't want to get out of bed. I don't want to deal with anything. I just want to lie in bed all day. Of course life gets in the way of that plan and I can't just stay in bed. There are responsibilities.... like kids, work, cooking, cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping. Life doesn't stop just because I don't want to get out of bed. So, I go through the motions. Fake the smiles, fake the laughter. Wave at the neighbors. Go to work. Attend the family functions. Put on the brave face only to feel like at any point, everything will come crashing down.
There are days when I wish more than anything I could rewind the years to when I was happiest. Miranda Lambert has a new song out that brings me to tears faster than anything.

I know they say you can’t go home again

I just had to come back one last time

Ma’am I know you don’t know me from Adam

But these handprints on the front steps are mine

Up those stairs in that little back bedroom

Is where I did my homework and I learned to play guitar

I bet you didn’t know under that live oak

My favorite dog is buried in the yard

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it

This brokenness inside me might start healing

Out here it’s like I’m someone elseI thought that maybe I could find myself

If I could just come in I swear I’ll leave

Won’t take nothing but a memory

From the house that built me

Mama cut out pictures of houses for years

From Better Homes and Gardens magazine

Plans were drawn and concrete poured

Nail by nail and board by board

Daddy gave life to mama’s dream

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it

This brokenness inside me might start healing

Out here it’s like I’m someone else

I thought that maybe I could find myself

If I could just come in I swear I’ll leave

Won’t take nothing but a memory

From the house that built me

You leave home and you move on and you do the best you can

I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it

This brokenness inside me might start healing

Out here it’s like I’m someone else

I thought that maybe I could find myself

If I could just come in I swear I’ll leave

Won’t take nothing but a memory

From the house that built me

I've thought about the houses that have built me. There are several. The very first home my parent's called "home". Our home in Hobbs. The house on Summit. My grandparent's homes in Electra. Southwest Church of Christ. A two-bedroom apartment. A duplex in Canyon. 3 bedroom rent house in Ridgecrest. A home of our own.

I've wondered at what point the carefree, happy me became who I am today. No one particular moment is to blame for the depression. It just happened. "I got lost in this old world and forgot who I am".

I need to find myself. I need to find my happiness. I need an intervention. So, I am creating a self-induced intervention. Starting with this very public blog. I titled this blog, "Thinking Outloud" and that's what I am doing. I'm sharing my story. I'm openly confessing... I am depressed. Maybe by putting it out here in the open, someone else who struggles with depression will realize that they are not alone.

This old world can be hard at times. Struggling with marriage and children can be hard. Forgetting who you once were and trying to find that person can be hard. Sometimes it just gets to be too much and you lose your way. I'm trying to find my way again. I'm trying to find me.

~jen

Adjusting

A week of having a 16 year old has come and gone. He's still 16. As much as I've wished for the years to be rewound, it hasn't happened. He's still 16, and I'm still 29 (give or take a few years).

Who knew that raising children could be this hard. Recently, a friend told me that as a mom I am preparing my children to leave me, to be independent of me. Independent of me. I'm not ready to be independent of them. How can I let them be independent of me when I want to hang on as tightly as I can.

I feel as though there is this giant count down clock ticking down the days that I have left with Cody. Tick, another day is gone. We are one more day closer to graduation. One more day until he leaves home for college. One more day.

Before long, I'll be having the same feelings for Caden. I can't even envision my life without my children. Without the next basketball tournament, or golf tournament, or soccer game, or PTA meeting, or fundraisers, or athletic banquets.

This week has been one of the hardest parenting moments this far in the whole scheme of parenting. Watching Cody's car pull away from our street hasn't gotten any easier.

I don't know how to adjust. I don't know how to let go. I don't know how, but I know I have to.

~jen