Pass the Pills, Please

Hi, my name is Rebekah and I'm a podcast addict.

I spend my days in yoga pants, earphones, running shoes, and covered in sweat.  Cleaning products are sometimes my only companions.  I have keys to most of my clients' houses so I don't interact with people frequently while I work.

So, podcasts it is.

I have become a listener of many different true crime podcasts.  They are eerie because they delve into the person's personality, their lives, their relationships, their mental state overall, and their mental state at the time of the crime.

Criminals are not very different from non-criminals.

I have lived a good portion of my life attempting to be free of medications.  I have been on a variety of different anti-depressants, anti-anxieties, and mood stabilizers.  I have a multitude of diagnosis (no idea what the plural of that is)....Anxiety disorder, PTSD, Bipolar II (not to be confused with the more severe Bipolar I), and ADHD.  I sought comfort in a psychiatrists' office at many different stages of my life.  I was in an abusive relationship and received the Bipolar diagnosis.  I held my son when he was dead and received the PTSD diagnosis.  I lived with an unstable alcoholic and received the Anxiety disorder diagnosis.  I was a single mom running a business with a million balls in the air and received the ADHD diagnosis.

Every time I attempted to live a life free of medication, it ended in failure.  I've had moments of cutting, wailing, pinching myself to alleviate the intense emotion, sleeping just to end the pain, medicating myself with alcohol and men.

The last time I stopped taking medication I was recently divorced and scared myself so badly I left a note before I went to sleep one night explaining that I had taken a bunch of random medications...that I loved my boys and I didn't mean to kill myself.

Firm sigh.

God made me with a deficit in my brain...I need medication to function.

I am very perturbed at the general attitude towards medications that are prescribed for mental health.

I have lived without them and I was miserable.  My kids were miserable.  My family was worried.

I watch many people I love struggle daily.  I'm not saying they all need to be medicated.  Because for some, it's a simple adjustment to our daily lives that our brains need.  Or more sleep.  Or better food.  Or more exercise.  For others like myself, we need the artillery to be balanced.  The truth is, our brain can only tolerate so much stress before we start to deteriorate.  And we live in a time where our brains are not given much nutrition. 

We are overworked, under slept, over-stressed.  We eat food that is lacking in nutrients.  Even the soil we grow our produce in is depleted and stressed out.  We are never still.  We look for other things that are just as weak and empty as us except Jesus to provide us with strength.  We take quick showers instead of long baths.  We brush our teeth furiously.  We are always on some form of technology.  We are bombarded with information and negativity. We live in small houses with our neighbors on top of us.  We can't see the stars.  Our kids have more homework than they should.  Life is extremely expensive.  We have multiple jobs to make ends meet.  We don't live in a calm environment with wide, open spaces that would give our brains time to heal and process.  We live in chaos.

Yet we expect that we should function as normally and peacefully as if we lived in the middle of nowhere, on a hill, surrounded by stars at night and beautiful sunrises in the morning, with no worries except what's eating our tomatoes in the garden and if we can all fit in the RV for our Thanksgiving trip (like my parents...insert jealousy) with little effort.

And we wonder why there are so many criminals.

I identify with most of the people that commit heinous crimes in my podcasts because they are usually in-the-heat-of-the-moment criminals.  They make one split decision based on the anarchy taking place in their brains and are forever doomed. (Now the sociopaths...God help them...totally different brains.)

If you don't identify with this, then you are one of the few who have a pristine brain...or are in total denial.  It's most likely the latter.

If the alternative to living a healthy, stable life is chaos and misery resulting in being the subject of a true crime podcast, then pass the pills, please.

Intense Pain...Incredible Joy

I was reading back through old blogs and was perturbed at myself.  How many blogs on single mom dating can one person write?  I mulled over this question for days.  Why did that seem to be the running theme in my life?  Surely I have other, more interesting things to write about?

And then a picture of Graham in the hospital flashed into my head.  I relived the whole incident...from start to finish and was left with a shortness of breath and a renewed anxiety.

I write about trivial things because the real stuff makes me panic.

Being a parent is unlike any other love or responsibility.  My heart will never stop sinking when I watch them walk into school on their own.  My worry for them will never cease.  The relief I feel when I finally have them back under my roof is persistent in its presence.

Living without them for a week at a time is like hanging my most important self up in my very large walk in closet/office and going in public as a sliver of a person. 

Nothing compares to motherhood.

I write about my dating adventures because it's comic relief.   My worry over my kids subsides for a short time as my fingers strike the keys.  I am lost in a world of humor and irrelevance, where the star of the show is this sliver of myself without my kids.  The fun, light, silly Rebekah.

It's a safe topic.

But what makes me who I am is the hard stuff.  The painful stuff. ...what my values are...who I value.  It has created not only intense pain but also incredible joy.  It's the guts of who I am.

Asking me to date without my kids is like asking a biker gang to go without leather.  It's just wrong.

I am doomed to write frivolous blogs 50% of the time...when my boys aren't tucked in their beds at my house as they should be.

The other 50% of the time is reserved for my anxiety over my boys....along with my intense pain...and incredible joy...as they snooze in their beds at momma's house.

I love Jesus...but I drink a little

My favorite thing is when people offer their opinions of me when they don't know me. (Insert sarcasm)

And my most favorite thing above that is when they judge my parenting.

It has taken me a long time to understand that the way that I think is very different from the majority.  I am not a rule follower.  I am curious about all kinds of people.  My boys have developed relationships with many different types of people.  They have been in many different types of atmospheres.  I don't shield them from much unless I feel it will hurt them physically.  We have explored our little corner of this amazing world.  Their little eyes have seen a lot of it with all its complex, confusing beauty. I am teaching them to love without judgement or expectation.

I don't believe that there is a set criteria to loving Jesus.  I believe we will all be shocked as hell when we get to heaven and see who's there.

What if a drug dealer/pimp/Buddhist is just as "godly" as my Southern Baptist preacher father?  What if me and my non-church-going, wine drinking, non-monogamous, universalist self is just as "godly" as a Children's minister?  

I have dear friends who are polyamorous and love to kid me about a line in my profile that I put once in a dating app.  "I love Jesus, but I drink a little."  That pretty much sums me up.

I believe God is bigger than our feeble attempt at morality.  I believe that He is so big, we will never be able to come close to understanding His holiness.  And it certainly isn't contained in a church building...or book...or our limited human knowledge.  I believe that He is more concerned with the state of our hearts than the "sins" we commit.

What is sin?  Google's definition....

sin: noun.an immoral act considered to be a transgression against divine law.

"a sin in the eyes of God"

synonyms: immoral act, wrong, wrongdoing, act of evil/wickedness, transgression, crime, offense, misdeed, misdemeanor; 

Verses about sin in the Bible:

Galatians 5:19-21 The Message (MSG)

19-21 It is obvious what kind of life develops out of trying to get your own way all the time: repetitive, loveless, cheap sex; a stinking accumulation of mental and emotional garbage; frenzied and joyless grabs for happiness; trinket gods; magic-show religion; paranoid loneliness; cutthroat competition; all-consuming-yet-never-satisfied wants; a brutal temper; an impotence to love or be loved; divided homes and divided lives; small-minded and lopsided pursuits; the vicious habit of depersonalizing everyone into a rival; uncontrolled and uncontrollable addictions; ugly parodies of community. I could go on.

This isn’t the first time I have warned you, you know. If you use your freedom this way, you will not inherit God’s kingdom.

James 4:17 The Message (MSG)  16-17 As it is, you are full of your grandiose selves. All such vaunting self-importance is evil. In fact, if you know the right thing to do and don’t do it, that, for you, is evil.

All of this is about the state of your heart.  

It doesn't say: sin is taking your kids around people who are not in the same socio-economic level, who curse, who smoke, who drink, who live with their partner, who are not as educated, who eat only like you do.  

It doesn't say: You are sinning if you watch rated R movies or smoke pot or are homosexual.

I believe that all mention of sin in the Bible is because the state of the HEART was off...not their actions.

God knows when we are acting in a way that is unbecoming to who we are.  He knows when we are behaving in a way that is selfish, loveless, greedy, jealous, prideful.  It's not about the ACT ... it's about the MOTIVE behind the act.

Hi, I'm Rebekah.  Mother to two beautiful, cool, amazing boys.  We have homosexual friends.  We have drug addict friends.  We have non-monogamous friends.  We have super liberal friends.  We have homeless friends.  I have tattoos.  I watch rated R movies.  I don't go to church regularly.

My heart is full of Jesus.

I love Jesus, but I drink a little.

Truth and Consequences

I watched "The Invention of Lying" last night.  I. LOVED. THIS. MOVIE. 

I am a truth teller, as my friend likes to call me.  Thus, the love of this movie.  I have a hard time being indirect or speaking false things just to make someone feel better.  I am missing the piece of me that politely lies in order to maintain the peace.  I am also unafraid of confrontation, so I suppose these two traits are complimentary...telling the truth and being OK with a troublesome exchange as a result.

An unpleasant interaction with my dear friend recently gave me pause.  It was because I spoke the truth when someone asked me about her.  In her opinion it was gossip and translated to people talking about her behind her back.  In my opinion, I was simply divulging accurate information for another friend who loved her as I did.  One of the responses from my friend who felt betrayed was that she would start telling others things about me as well.  My response was that I hoped she always spoke the truth about me...regardless of how unattractive it may be.

The truth about me is not always pleasant.  Every other Monday, I go into a cocoon of coping mechanisms implemented in order to keep me from falling apart.  I miss my boys so badly, nothing is off limits if it will keep the misery at bay.  I drink too much.  I eat too much.  I sleep too much.  I do a variety of other self destructive things until I feel I can function without a severe handicap.  Sometimes the feelings subside.  Sometimes they don't and my self-destruction continues.

I do have moments of victory over these misguided coping skills at times.  But these are when I'm in the height of health and wellness.  If anything is askew at all in my mental or physical well being, the old dirty habits creep in easily.

What can I say...I'm a work in progress.

Along with my truth telling, I also do not divulge information unless I feel it's necessary.  I'm a fan of people minding their own business and me minding mine.  But if I'm asked a direct question, I inevitably tell the truth.  My response should be, "I'd rather not talk about that."  But I haven't quite mastered that response.

Goal #2,579 ... know when to tell people it's not their business....

As a momma, the only other person whose business I am concerned with is my boys.  Yes, I get upset when I feel like people close to me are making bad choices.  But the concern is easily replaced with the fact that they are adults with free will like me.  And I'm the queen of bad choices, so it's almost relieving when I'm not alone in this.

What if my "bad" choices are not bad at all and are in fact a necessary part of who I am?  Aside from the alcohol that rots your insides, what if my personality is simply the personality of someone who has little regard for rules and "proper" interactions?  What if I was created specifically for the purpose of living freely....detached...?  I have discovered that having to answer to anyone is my least favorite thing.  I don't want to have to tell anyone where I am or what I'm doing.  It's not because I'm ashamed, it just seems cumbersome and unnecessary to me.  Why should anyone care where I am and what I'm doing?  Is that love?

Love seems to have turned into a term that justifies our bad behaviors.  I love you so I'll track every move you make.  I love you so I'll have an opinion about everything you do.  I love you so I have a right to go through your phone.  I love you so I'll judge your interactions.  I love you so I need to approve every decision you make.  I love you so I'll get easily hurt by you.  I love you so I want to spend every second with you.  I love you and because that makes me vulnerable I do not trust you.

Love never gives up.

Love cares more for others than for self.

Love doesn’t want what it doesn’t have.

Love doesn’t strut,

Doesn’t have a swelled head,

Doesn’t force itself on others,

Isn’t always “me first,”

Doesn’t fly off the handle,

Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others,

Doesn’t revel when others grovel,

Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,

Puts up with anything,

Trusts God always,

Always looks for the best,

Never looks back,

But keeps going to the end.

1 Corinthians 13:7

If I feel like I have a right to know what my boys are doing because I love them intensely, then perhaps that is a side effect of love.  BUT my boys are my responsibility.  God gave them to me to nurture and help them grow into the best possible people they can be.  So therefore, their words and actions are my business. I don't feel the same responsibility for anyone else.  So the love I have for my boys is a different kind of love.  It's more a self-love because they are extensions of me.

Romantic love has probably eluded me because of my indifference to others.

I have developed into this person.  I was once the girl crying in a church while a homeless man gave his testimony.

That girl is long gone.  Whether it is because of nature or nurture, I'll never know.  It's a moot point now.

Truth and consequences...two things I am unafraid of.  Love, however, ....terrifying.

Man A.K.A. POSER

I was once a stepmom.  I had the honor of loving someone else's child for most of her childhood.  At the time, I thought that I was behaving as I should.  Asking her dad to put me before her at times.  Believing that a healthy marriage starts with a solid union and that meant you give your spouse priority.  I believe that this is a great concept...assuming the union actually works.  But if it doesn't, it seems like a wasted priority.

I approached my newfound singleness as a parent in much the same way.  I believed I would find a man who would replace my husband in what I deemed a proper priority placement.  I believed I would find someone who would love my boys as much as I loved my stepdaughter.  I naively approached dating and men in this manner.

I was recently told that this skewed priority placement was one of the downfalls of my appeal as a partner.  I had already adjusted this mistaken priority list months ago, but it affirmed that I had indeed been misguided in my approach as a single mother.

Unfortunately, temporary companions are replaceable.  There are a plethora of men eager to date for a short period of time.  They are quick to be there for you initially.  They swoop in and make you think you finally found a decent man who is willing to muddle through difficulties, only to find that they run out the door like all the others when things get difficult.

In the words of Bridget Jones,

"What is your problem? You give the impression of being all moral, and noble...and normal...and helpful in the kitchen. But you're just as bad as the rest of them."

I'm not sure if this habit of false, initial appearances is simply to benefit their ego, to give them sexual satisfaction, or if they genuinely are unaware that they are misrepresenting themselves.  

Or maybe it's just that the expiration of dating is around 3 months because after 3 months the reality of companionship settles in and it's just easier to cut and run rather than tolerate differences.

Whatever the reason, it is quite the cluster and if you are unhappily married I suggest you spend time with a single woman in her 40s and you will go home and cling to your husband like you never have before.  

I find that when I don't have my kids, I am distracted and lost and seem a bit like my life is pointless.  I've had times when I felt I conquered this hopelessness, but it always seems to make its way back into my psyche.  I don't know who I am apart from being a mom most of the time.  

And dating makes this feeling even more pronounced.

Perhaps this is something every mother who has to live without her kids feels.

I know I'm not alone in this serious lapse in identity...Feeling like your identity is put on hold until two little boys are asleep in their beds in your house.  I don't know what normal is...I just know that there has got to be a way to bridge the gap between absences.  And that most definitely does not involve a man...A.K.A. POSER.

Hook up Culture

I was talking to someone who is about to venture into the world of divorced mom.  She has watched me through mine and is now unfortunately enduring her own.

"I don't think I will be able to make it in this hook-up culture.  How do you do it?"

I paused for a minute and then said resolutely, "I give no one access to my heart anymore."

The beauty of our hook up culture is that we rely only on ourselves for necessities...food, clothing, entertainment, shelter.  We answer to no one.  We come and go as we deem appropriate and are rarely concerned with others' opinions.

We are too busy surviving.

I met someone recently that made me question my quest for singleness.  I liked him.  He gave me butterflies.  He made me smile when I received a text.  I felt all gooey inside.

He is also hundreds of miles away.  Perfect for someone whose heart has seen better days.

The beauty of closing your heart off is you can stay in that space for a long time....in the romantic phase where reality never really settles on you.  You can keep people at a comfortable distance and step into their world only when you want.  There is no danger of being hurt because you haven't let them in.

The down side to this closing off your heart business is that you do it across the board.  For everyone.  Except your kids.

Kids are safe to pour your heart into.  They will hurt it, but that is an expected hurt.  It's not the kind of hurt that takes you off guard and makes you question the essence of humanity.  And firmly feel you have again failed in your pursuit of finding kindness.  It's not the kind of hurt that calls for yet another department to be shut down.  If anything, it pushes you to let them in more deeply.

They will beat it up, but it's a rewarding kind of beating.  From the moment you say hello to their beautiful face, you have surrendered any right to selfishness.  Their beatings and rejections make you pursue them even more.  Because you know they need you.

For the kind of love you have for your kids is the agape kind...the kind that Jesus has for us.

"Agape love is selfless, sacrificial, unconditional love. It is the highest of the four types of love in the Bible. This Greek word, agápē, and variations of it are frequently found throughout the New Testament. Agape perfectly describes the kind of love Jesus Christ has for his Father and for his followers."

God in His beauty and goodness pursues us even harder when we give Him a beating.  He invades our personal space.  He has knowledge of us that no one has access to.  He sees our motives.  He understands our behaviors.  He created us so we are no mystery to Him.  Our efforts to push Him away are an invitation for Him to pull us closer.  He is unrelenting in His love for us.

Trust me, I have tried to push Him away.

So in this culture that is a fan of hooking up, the only ones who get to see your heart are the ones you carried inside you and the One who carries you.

https://youtu.be/TCunuL58odQ