Set Your Problems Down & Live Your Life

 

My mentor in my online anxiety recovery group (Parag) posted this. He gave me permission to share it. I'm really working on being present in the moment and giving all my fears and worries to God. I've realized I really don't trust Him much at all. So I'm learning that!

 

Set Your Problems Down & Live Your Life

One of the strangest things we do as human beings is that we don't just experience problems—we carry them. A problem appears, and before we know it, we've picked it up and placed it on our shoulders.

 

A symptom arises.

A difficult conversation happens.

A scary thought appears.

An uncertainty about the future emerges.

 

And immediately the mind says:

 

"Carry this."

"Think about this."

"Don't forget this."

"Keep working on this until it's resolved."

 

So we do.

 

We carry it through breakfast.

We carry it to work.

We carry it into conversations.

We carry it into bed.

 

The actual event may have lasted five minutes. The carrying lasts five days, five months, or five years.

What most people don't realize is that many of the things they are carrying don't require carrying.

 

They may require attention.

They may require action.

They may require patience.

 

But they do not require psychological transportation from one moment to the next.

 

A symptom today does not need to be carried into tomorrow.

An uncertainty this morning does not need to accompany you to dinner tonight.

A fear does not become more manageable because you've held onto it all day.

 

The mind believes carrying a problem is being responsible.

 

It's just suffering.

 

There is a profound difference between addressing something when it is here and dragging it through every moment of your life.

 

This is why so many sensitized people feel exhausted.

 

They aren't only experiencing symptoms.

They're carrying them.

They're carrying yesterday's symptoms.

Tomorrow's fears.

Next week's possibilities.

Last month's setbacks.

And all of that weight accumulates.

 

What if, just for this moment, you put it down?

 

Not solved it.

Not denied it.

Not fixed it.

 

Just stopped carrying it. If action is needed later, you can take action later. If a decision is needed tomorrow, you can make it tomorrow.

 

But right now, can you allow this moment to be free of everything that isn't actually happening?

Peace is not found by solving all of life's problems. It's found by realizing how many of them you're carrying that don't need to be carried at all.

 

The mind says, "Don't put it down, you need to solve this."

 

Life whispers, "Put it down. If it truly needs you, you'll find it again."

Understanding Nervous System Recovery

(Part 1 of ___). I have no idea how  

Today, I am PINK. 

• RED is bad.
• YELLOW is okay. (I still feel pretty lousy at yellow).
• GREEN is good. (But I'm still not "Wendi").
• PINK is "WENDI IS HERE."

Today, Wendi is HERE. 

To be honest, I have had very little, if any PINK in eight months. Limited. To feel that today feels absolutely amazing. It is an encouragement to me that I am inside of me! Sometimes I start t fear I'll never feel me again.

The problem is, it is so so hard to remember these things when I am RED or even YELLOW. 

More and more, John and I are realizing that very few people discuss this nervous system recovery stuff. They discuss anxiety. They discuss depression. They discuss panic attacks. But this state that I am in is rarely if ever discussed. 

I've been feeling like I need to try to explain it more. To put it into words. But as I attempt to do so, it becomes quite apparent why no one talks about this. It's HARD to explain.  

Basically, I am in a season of "recovery." Our systems carry the weight of everything we've experienced over time -- not just the obvious busy days, but the patterns and habits we've built over the years. For me, this pattern was a way of numbing and coping. I numbed pain (although I had NO idea) by staying very busy, keeping people happy, doing things for others, and never slowing down. Like, ever. 

Why did I do this? Because feeling emotions wasn't safe for me. People do this for various reasons, but in my case, feeling became too painful. So I figured out ways to not feel. It's crazy to think I did this. But I did. And we can do it for a long time. But sometime (usually in your 40's) the attempt becomes too much. 

It's at this point that people turn to unhealthy behaviors. They scream at their kids. They lash out. They drink earlier and earlier in the day. They do drugs. They numb with social media. They eat. They sleep too much. In my case, I didn't do these things (much) so mine started coming out in migraines. It also came out in depression during my pregnancies. 

Now, I am attempting to recalibrate. I DO NOT WANT TO LIVE THAT WAY ANYMORE. I am not allowing myself to do some of the things I did previously to "numb" my hard emotions. For me this means not scrolling, not over-eating, not checking in with people to make sure everyone is okay, not "doing" for people just to make myself feel better. No dopamine hits. Of course, I'm not perfect at this, but it's what I'm attempting to do. 

Some immediate improvements: 

• I've lost 60 pounds. 
• I have no more headaches. Like barely any. Ever. 
• I rarely yell. 
• I am much more open to my husband or kids correcting my behavior and pointing out, "Hey Mom, you are kind of starting to do the thing." I am way less defensive. 
• I don't think anyone is "trying to make me feel stupid" or "telling me what to do" or "judging me." Those were defensive measures that my body was remembering. They weren't true.  
• I am limiting scrolling.
• I am narrowing my circle. 
• I am trying to be okay with people deciding they don't like me or like what I have to say and accept that I am not everyone's cup of tea.  

However, doing these things takes a LOT of work. And that takes a LOT of energy. It also means I have to limit potential "triggers." I really hate the word "trigger" but I can't afford to sit and watch a movie that reminds me of all kinds of hard things in my life. It will take too much from me emotionally to do that.  

Here was my previous life strategy. Again, this was not a conscious decision, but it was what was happening. 

1. Be the nicest person I possibly could. 

2. Do lots of things for people so that if I did mess up, they would pay attention to the deposits I had previously made.  

3. Never tell people what I really thought unless it was "safe" to do so. Just keep giving. Let them keep taking. Don't confront. EVER!

4. Allow people to take advantage of me, not respect my boundaries, and treat me poorly (To be honest, very few people in my life did this. It was a very small handful of people, but I let that handful take up way too much of my priority.)

5. Check in with all my people regularly to make sure we were "okay."

6. If, by any chance, despite doing #1-5, someone got upset at me, I would apologize profusely. I would take full blame. I would self-depricate and blame myself (yes, this would include lying and manipulation) in order to assure that they forgave me. 

7. Beg for forgiveness. 

Please note that these behaviors I was "doing" were incredibly: selfish, manipulative, and dishonest. I am not proud of them, but I felt they were necessary to keep me alive and safe.   

Okay, so now, I'm not "allowed" to do this anymore. This means that if I have to be who I am. I have to speak truthfully (even if the person gets upset). I can, of course, choose to not engage with someone. And I am learning how to do that. But in general, , I have to not FAWN all over people.

I'll give you example. 

This past week, I had a very minor thing happen. Someone called me and asked a question. I had to tell them we were not participating in their activity. 

Afterwards, I was incredibly tempted to follow that up with an additional text where I praised them and said I was sorry and made all kinds of excuses for why we were not participating. Much of this would be "sort of truthful." But a lot of it was painting things to make sure "we were okay."

Instead, I sent NO texts.

This means I have to sit there in my discomfort and feel. I have to remember past events in my life and hard stories and uncomfortable feelings that mimicked this. (I don't try to, but my brain just brings them up.) I have to talk to my truth tellers and ask them to remind me I am doing the right thing. 

For people who are not people-pleasers (like my husband!) this seems ridiculous. Seriously? All of that work? Isn't that exhausting?!

YES
YES
YES!!!!

And because my body is in such a flux right now, it takes a lot out of me. 

Okay, if I am being honest, writing this post has taken a lot out of me. So, in sticking with me learning what I need, I am going to stop it now. I'll return when I have more space to share more. 

Oh and this process I am in? It won't last forever. But it lasts ... for now. I hope to have more and more and more pink until the point where it is the dominant color. However, I still have to accept that I am a human who WILL have bad days. I never accepted those before. I thought they meant I had done something wrong if I was struggling. 

And you may notice this post doesn't discuss GOD or my faith at all. That is a whole 'nother level. ALL OF THIS INCLUDES JESUS. But I'll save that to discuss at a later date.  

No. I am a human.

Whew. More learning. Always learning. 

Here is a good video to help understand this. 

Here is another. 

And one more. 

 

 

 

Helpful to not feel alone

 

I continue to work HARD on my mental health. Sometimes the journey feels impossible. Will I ever, successfully, get through this. My Aunt told me she'd rather have a root canal without novocaine and then be felt-up by Captain Hook. This made me laugh, but it really is accurate. Trying to work my way through depression and anxiety is HARD. 

So this handout that my friend Stebbs gave me today really resonated with me. In 2024, I was just trying to find my way out of depression and anxiety. But now, I'm not just doing that. I'm actually trying to fix some things that are broken. 

PEOPLE PLEASING is the thing that God is working on me with right now. Who do I live for? Am I afraid to speak truth to people? Do I compromise to keep the peace? 

The answer to all of these things is "YES!" This is how I lived. I lived in desperation to never have someone be upset at me or not like at me. When you really discuss that, you realize how impossible that attempt actually is. It's impossible. Not everyone will like me. And people will get upset with me. Especially if I am living like I am not which is speaking truth instead of pushing things under the rug. 

So here I am: trying to live in that. Trying to allow myself to release things that God has asked me to release. His yoke is EASY! Really? Then why do I feel things are so heavy? Because I don't allow myself to not carry all that extra!

Emotional weight of things I can't control? YES, I HAVE BEEN CARRYING THAT!

The tendency to shrink to make others more comfortable? OH YES. 

The need to over-explain boundaries? OHHHHH BOY. 

The fear of being misunderstood. YEP YEP YEP. 

Wendi is working to not live that way anymore. And you want to know the main reason? Because my CHILDREN deserve to not live with me teaching these things to them. I want them to have the freedom that I am having to work for. I am working HARD to allow them to not be slaves to whether or not people are happy with you. 

I'm working ... 

Never done

I keep believing I am done. I have healed enough. God, I got it. Let me be done. 

And then God says: "No, dear child, peel back another layer of the things you have pushed down inside of you for your whole life."

And so I peel back. And I cry. I weep. I meet with Kim. I talk to my cousin Cara. I break down the pain that has been tucked up inside of me for so long. 

The truth is: I will never be done. I will always be healing and growing. 

Yesterday I had an argument with one of my sons, and as we discussed the situation I realized: My body is calm. 

There was no dysregulation. Sure, in hindsight, I probably could have handled some things differently. But generally, I handled it well. I had no feeling inside that I might fly off the handle or lose my cool. 

That is regulation. 

That is having a LARGE window of tolerance.

While my children may choose to misbehave, I no longer feel any need (or compulsion) to use shame or force to get my point across.

I am calm. I am collected. I see their misbehavior as an opportunity for growth. And it is my job to help them grow. Calmly. Securely. Confidently. 

And yet ... despite all the awareness and all the things I see now that I didn't see before ... there is still pain tied up inside of me that hurts to look at. It is hard to look back and see evil and trauma and "yuck."

However, if I don't choose to see it, I will not heal from it. The trauma is tucked up inside you. It is there whether you think you have no memories or choose not to see the memories. And if you don't unpack it, it will continue to eat you alive. 

How can you tell you are being eaten alive? Here are some things to watch out for:

• Anxiety of any sort.
• Depression of any sort. 
• Losing your temper at any time. 
• Feeling "pushed to the edge" by other people. (They don't get that right because you are strong and can handle it!)
• Feeling that "others" have cause you to feel bad inside. (They don't get that right because you are strong and can handle it!) 
• Blaming anything or anyone for you not feeling right. 
  
• Eating for comfort. 
• Drinking alcohol for comfort. 
• Zoning out on your phone or with TV for comfort (regularly). 
• Sleeping too much. 

Obviously this list isn't exhaustive and you could possibly be doing one of these things and not living with stuff shoved deep down inside of you. But if you think this might be you, don't wait. Reach out. Don't wait until your legs are completely knocked out from under you.

Shalom

 

Spring is coming. 

Spring is coming in the seasons. And Spring is also coming in my heart. 

After a year of pain beyond my wildest imagination, after a year laying on the floor of my bedroom day after day with gaping wounds that left me barely able to function ...

my heart 

has healed. 

Or, should I say it is healing. I suppose it will always be healing. But at least now, the wounds have healed to a degree that the pain is not cutting me with every breath. 

And with that healing comes peace beyond my wildest imagination. 

Shalom. 

I am now beginning, for the first time in my life, to experience ... peace.

Shalom.

In the Bible, Shalom extends beyond the definition of the word peace. 

It stretches beyond the absence of conflict and encompasses wholeness, well-being, and completeness. 

And while peace has now begun to surround the internal part of my being, this external farm I live on is part of my internal Shalom.

The other day I packed a bag with my journal and a bottle of water and a few other incidentals and hiked to one of my favorite places on the farm. 

Who am I kidding? I have so many favorite spots on our farm. But this one is by a fence line, neighboring Billy's farm under some trees with breeze and shade and a view of every single place in the pasture.

Our farm is my favorite. 

The joy it evokes in me is a combination of peace and faith and love and future and past all combined into the beauty that is my life. 

I picture that life 27 years ago ... me walking down the aisle to marry my high school sweetheart, and I wish I could tell my younger self how much of a dream come true she was about to begin.

(I wish I could go back to many versions of my younger selves and tell her a lot of things.)

John and I were city people. Suburban at the very least. Not rural. And definitely not country. 

And yet, here I am now.

Our decision to purchase this 96-acres was a negotiation and a dance and a bit of mental chess between my renaissance-man-of-a-best-friend and his absolutely-not-a-country-girl-wife.

He wanted rural. 

I didn't. 

(Or, of course, I thought, I didn't.)

I would be lonely. And the dark would be scary. And I wouldn't have neighbors. And I didn't know anything about animals or farm land or woods. 

Woods?! 

Weren't there bears in the woods? And maybe wolves (or something like that?)

But somehow, in the course of two decades together, he managed to move me deeper ... to wiggle me further and further into something I never dreamed of ... dreaming of. 

And now I dream in reality. 

The peace on this farm winds itself down into the recesses of my heart. It moves into the tiniest crevices of my soul and leaves me smiling from the inside out. 

Today I met a new baby lamb, and then, while I sat by the fence writing in my journal, another one was born, a black little beauty with white across his head. 

The mother cleans him. Or her. Too soon to know. But can you get any more peaceful that a newborn baby lamb on a perfectly temperatured Spring day?

My second boy breathes nature just like his Dad, and as I pass him on the way to one of my favorite spots, I find him taking apart an old chicken tractor. His redneck is glistening with sweat. He arms are just tanning up with April looming around the corner.

My trusty sidekick, Arabelle, goes to give him some love, and I think, What would Elijah do without this farm? Who would he be without the space that is his home?

Without the space that is my home.

What would we all do without this land and the grass and the woods and the dogs and the animals and the nature that brings rest to my life?

I turn and see my thirteen-year-old daughter, camera strapped to her chest, meandering near the chickens. The egg basket is nearby. She's scooping out feed for the laying chickens and simultaneously stopping to take photos of the most random things. 

Abigail takes photos of everything and sometimes I can't even see what she's taking a picture of ...

 ... and then I see the photo later and I can actually see the pollen on the bee, and I think, what would her life be like without these pastures and the woods and the space and the quiet and the peace that is our life here on the Bauernhof?

I want to thank my husband. I want to thank the God that made him with a love of all things nature in his heart. I want to thank my Savior for knowing what I would need before I even could contemplate needing them. 

I want to thank him for Shalom.

We long for Shalom don't we? Peace, harmony, and delight between ...

me and myself.

me and other people.

me and the Creator.

But also?

me and the Earth. 

And I say that knowing that years ago I would have thought that saying those words made me some sort of tree-hugging yoga person. And now I know that it isn't that at all.

To have fullness of life, we need integration.

We need shalom. 

We were created for this, and while many of us strive for this, I believe we are missing one of the key areas that we were meant to be integrated upon. 

The Earth.

Nature. 

Peace. 

Shalom. 

We strive in our journeys toward mental health for the connection with ourselves, with God, and with our fellow man. 

But what we also need is what I am getting sitting under the tree, chatting with my nephew and his fiancee. She lays on a blanket petting my dog. Gabe tells me about his thoughts regarding mustaches and chewing tobacco and honeymoon locations. 

The breeze is blowing. There is sheep poop on his future wife's shirt from the little lamb she just had to hold in the field. And it feels like we have all the time in the world. We talk of church. We talk of relationships. We talk of our own personal health. 

But we also feel what we need to feel. We feel the Earth. We feel the grass. We feel the sunshine. We feel the breeze. 

We feel Shalom. 

Black holes, mush, the vortex & the meadow

The year 2024 was A BLACK HOLE. It was nothingness. It was when all the anxiety and depression that I'd pushed down and made go away with medication or sheer determination for 30 years came shooting out of me sideways. I fell, headfirst, into a very, very dark HOLE.

I picture life like this:

For those people who are not plagued by depression and anxiety, their life is a beautiful green meadow. Rows and rows of wildflowers and willow trees and just all the things that a beautiful meadow is in your dreams spread across the landscape of their life. The sky is blue. There are puffy clouds. Birds are chirping and the temperature is a perfect 72 degrees. Can you picture the meadow?

I'm not naive enough to think that their life always looks like that, of course. But for the most part, even when hard things happen, that meadow is always in sight. They might face incredible challenges, but because their body is living in the harmony God intended, they repeatedly return to the meadow.

Everyone is born in the meadow. But some people, whether it be because of genetics or life circumstances or trauma, wander (or are violently yanked!) away from the meadow. Some of these people lose sight of the meadow when they are a very young child as an unfair childhood knocks them down before they can even really enjoy the meadow. For others, the meadow gets progressively farther and farther from their view as they age and their trauma piles up around them. 

Once you get far enough away from the meadow, the landscape actually begins to get very marshy. And once you wade through that marsh for long enough, you can eventually reach a BLACK HOLE. 

In 2024, I fell into the HOLE. 

The HOLE isn't as bad as hell, but for those of us on Earth, it is about as bad as it can get. No one can understand how bad the HOLE feels unless you are lying at the bottom of it. It's so deep, you can't even see the light. You are devoured by depression and anxiety and can't even fathom that it is possible to not be in the HOLE forever. 

Nice people outside of the HOLE will try to offer bits of encouragement about "just trust God" or "pray a little harder" but when you are in the HOLE you have trouble even breathing. And breathing becomes your prayer.

I had to sit in HOLE. I had to lie on the floor of my bedroom begging God to save me from that HOLE, and if he wouldn't, then please let the HOLE swallow me because the blackness was way too black for me to stay in it for very long. I wanted to die. I dreamed of dying.

The year 2024 was gut-wrenching sobs. It was hanging on for dear life. It was being unable to care for my children. It was struggling to even get in the shower on any given day. I pleaded with God to end the misery. Why was He letting me be in this HOLE? Rescue me Jesus!

He did. 

While I was down there, he brought a few truth-tellers into my life. These are people who had previously been in the HOLE or people who just genuinely have a compassion and have learned how to help people in the HOLE. For me it was a Christian Counselor. It was a Cousin who had lived in the HOLE for longer than anyone should humanly be able to. These humans actually have special super powers that allow them to join you in the HOLE but not be affected by it. Since it is your HOLE and not their HOLE, they can lay on the floor next to you and rub your back and remind you of truth: 

Jesus loves you. You won't stay here. This is temporary. Hang on. It won't like this be forever. There is an end to this misery. The pain is unbearable. Hang on. I am here with you. I will remind you everyday of the truth that you can't see because you are so deep in the HOLE. 

I never, ever, ever want to face that HOLE again. 

And truly, I don't believe I will. Because I have laid on the bottom of that HOLE and looked up at the sky I know is there but cannot see, and I have looked my sadness directly in the face and learned where it came from and why it was there and with God holding me up and some amazing supporters cheering me on, I slowly began the long climb out of that pit of despair. 

I know the path now. So if I ever start slipping again, I believe the fall won't be quite as great. 

The climb took me about eight months. It's tough climbing out of a HOLE because you slip a lot. I'd be twelve or thirteen steps up the side of the HOLE and suddenly a storm would start brewing, and I'd slip. Sometimes I'd slip almost to where I had started from. I'd have to take a break and take a nap and talk to my truth-tellers and to Jesus and remind myself of the truth all over again before getting the energy to begin climbing again. Slipping was disheartening. Lies like this would begin to swirl:

You are a failure. You won't ever be able to get out of this HOLE for good. Can you imagine what people think of you right now? You aren't strong enough. You are too broken. You are no good. Give up now.

But with the truth-tellers and Jesus whispering in my ear, I'd find the courage to climb again. 

I've been out of the HOLE since July. Oh, to be up on the side of the HOLE! I have been doing so well in my journey that I actually get to visit the meadow quite often. I mostly live in the meadow now. It's so beautiful. It makes me think of heaven. How wonderful heaven will be. 

In between the HOLE and the meadow is marsh where I lived for most of my life. Some days, my feet kind of sink down into the marsh. I don't like the way that marsh feels. It is hard to believe that prior to my fall into the whole I lived in that marsh. How did I not understand how to get out of the marsh and go frolic in the meadow? But the marsh was all I knew. So I accepted it. It wasn't a meadow, but it wasn't a HOLE so it at least felt ... reasonable.

The marsh is the anxiety and worry that was part of everyday of my life for as long as I could remember. Many of you know what that feels like. It is all-encompassing. It is devouring. It is exhausting. 

The content of the marsh is different for everyone. Some of you, like me, have a marsh mixture that felt like this: 

They don't like you. You aren't good enough. You are a failure. See that look on her face? She is disappointed in you. He doesn't want to be your friend anymore. They will forget about you. They meant to leave you out. You will never change. People will always dislike you. You frustrate everyone. You are too loud. You are too big. You are too much. You are too dramatic. Tone it down. Be less. They will like you more if you act like you are supposed to. Be what they tell you to be. 

That is my marsh. My marsh always involves people. I am not pleasing them. I'm not good enough. Someone is going to get mad at me. Someone won't like me. Or someone won't like one of my children.

And the truth is, I had lived in that marsh for so long, I didn't even know it wasn't normal to live like that. I kinda thought everyone lived in marsh. 

Your marsh may surround health. I have three friends in this marsh. Their marsh feels like this: 

You are going to die. Feel that thing in your stomach? It's cancer. That numbness is a sign. You have MS. You are going to get ALS. You will die of Parkinson's. They are going to find a tumor on the ultrasound. Your headache is a brain tumor. You are going to die soon. You are going to be a burden to those you love. It's just a matter of time. 

Can you feel what that marsh feels like? How incredibly devouring and exhausting it is? Whether it is a fear of man or a fear of death or a fear of some other "something", the facts remain the same: you are in a prison. 

For me, however, when I fell in that HOLE, all I wanted was to climb out and live in the mush again. Just let me get back to that prison. At least it was a prison I knew. It felt so much better than the HOLE. 

The problem with the marsh is that you can feel comfortable in the marsh. You can decide to stay there. Because at least you aren't in the HOLE. 

There's one other location in this illustrated world that I want to mention. That location is the VoRtEx. Now the VoRtEx exists on the side of the HOLE. It's at the very top like sort of begins. You aren't even close to falling in the HOLE. You have your feet on solid ground. But the ground is still a little like marsh so sometimes it doesn't feel too solid.

It's in the VoRtEx that the old lies and the old way of thinking try to overtake you. Sometimes you are only there for a few minutes. Sometimes it is hours or days or even weeks. It's a place where the old familiar thoughts try to take over and you have to fight and pray hard to tell them that they are no longer in line with your new way of thinking. 

In my case, I have to basically get my mind to start saying something like this: 

You aren't who you were. The approval of man doesn't define you anymore. You've seen the beautiful grass. You aren't going to stay here. What he thinks of you is not truth. Your worth is in Christ. Jesus is your definition. The approval of man isn't what matters to you. 

Sometimes, if the VoRtEx is especially frustrating, I may have to call on my truth-tellers again to remind me of the truth. But each time I fall back into the VoRtEx it seems to be easier to find my way out. I am starting to recognize the patterns. 

I write this piece for any of you out there living in any combination of VoRtEx or marsh or BLACK HOLE. I hope you could see yourself in something I wrote and you can feel in my words that: 

YOU ARE NOT ALONE!

and

YOU WILL NOT STAY HERE!

This need a combination of things. You need truth-tellers. You need Jesus. You need prayer. You may need counseling and you may even need medication. Don't go through this alone. Reach out! 

The meadow is waiting for you.

Not Being Afraid of Sadness

 

Jesus, take my wounds. May they allow others the freedom to FEEL and the comfort of feeling ... felt. 

As I write these words, a few hours before the beginning of 2025, my eleven-year-old Pomengranate slides into my bedroom. She has tears behind her green eyes, and she's left her super strong Daddy in the kitchen in themiddle of their baking to sit on my lap. Me? Really? I'm strong enough for you little Brownie? You are picking me over your Daddy?

"What is it?" I ask, and she doesn't know, and I pull her onto my lap and tell her that it's okay to cry. She nods and snuggles in closer, and I rub her back, and I thank God that He allowed me to look my losses directly in the face in a year of refining that was 2024. It is exactly these reflections that are allowing me to understand how important these conversations with my daughter are. 

I ask her if I can snap a picture, and she says yes, and I take it, and I don't care that I look older than I wish and weigh more than I would like and am quite aware now that I'm no longer the volleyball and basketball superstar I once was, but instead, I am a 47-year-old mother, most likely over halfway through this journey we call life.

I say words to Hannah that I didn't have just twelve months ago. Debilitated by migraines and so desperate to end the pain, I went off my decades-long-anti-depressant companion. And what followed was the opportunity to look my grief in the face and heal and leave a prison I didn't even know I was in.

I tell my youngest daughter that Jesus is not afraid of her sadness. He is present in grief even if we don't what the grief is from. Go ahead and cry little Hannah Joy Pomegranate Kitsteiner. Don't be afraid of your emotions. Your Savior died for you and you are who He made you to be. And I'm your Mom, and when you don't know what to do, I'm gonna help you for as long as you will let me. 

 

 

Great Quote on Shame

“Shame eats secrets for breakfast” is a quote attributed to Brené Brown, who is known for her TED Talk on shame. Brown has also said, “If you put shame in a petri dish and cover it with judgment, silence, and secrecy, you've created the perfect environment for shame to grow.

If you put shame in a petri dish and cover it with judgment, silence, and secrecy, you’ve created the perfect environment for shame to grow until it makes its way into every corner and crevice of your life. If, on the other hand, you put shame in a petri dish and douse it with empathy, shame loses its power and begins to wither. Empathy creates a hostile environment for shame—an environment it can’t survive in, because shame needs you to believe you’re alone and it’s just you."

 

I love this quote above. So much shame because we won't share. We won't be vulnerable. We won't be real. What if we weren't afraid of honestly?

More Onion Layers

Time for a new layer. 

Time to peel back another part of the onion that is ...

me. 

It's interesting how you can live your whole life and not have the capacity (or the energy?) to see something. That now you can see so clearly.

I haven't realized that my entire life, I have feared not being in God's will. I think I failed to see this was something that bothered me because, truthfully, the people-pleasing-problems (I call it my PPP :) was so intense, I didn't have the bandwidth to look at anything else. 

But now that the PPP has lessened, I get the opportunity to look at other things.

(Isn't that so great!? More introspection! Will it ever stop?)

Today I spoke with Kim, and I was able to pull back another layer. This time, the layers pulling back doesn't hurt me as much as it did in the past. I am not in the throngs of anxiety and depression. But they are still ... uncomfortable.

Today I pulled back the fact that I DO NOT TRUST MYSELF.

Not sure where or when or how that thought came in, but I have had to correct the message that says: 

I'm only okay if everyone else is okay

and now I am learning to also correct the message that says 

I'm not wise enough to make my own decisions. I must be able to see that I am in God's will. I must see proof of his intention and me following the right path.

Not true. Of course.

I am wise. I pray. I listen. I strive. I am willing to allow a door to be shut. i have my good friends. My husband. I am able to listen to the Lord without needing proof that I am listening. 

But, I don't know that I do truly know that. 

And so the onion reveals another layer.

Opening this Clinic in Asheville with JB and watching all the pieces come together has been awe-inspiring. But every step of the way I've thought, "What are we doing?" or "Why are we doing this?" or "What if we aren't supposed to be doing this?" The questions are endless. And they only stem from the fact that I don't completely trust myself.

Not that this decision was my decision of course. This decision was made by many people along the way. I was only a small piece in the complexity of the puzzle and the machine. 

I have had so many opportunities to see Christ's intentionality in my life. But that doesn't mean that I will always get to see it. Maybe I won't see it until heaven. Maybe, on Earth, I will never understand how He works or why He did what He did.

Recently, one of these small "gifts" was to see a very dear person in our life go back to church for the first time in over a decade. This is something I have prayed for diligently. It is also someone that the Lord had commanded John and I to keep in our lives. We felt continually called to love this person. To not try to engage in some of our differences. To simply open our arms and our hearts. 

I truly did NOT believe this person would ever leave what they were following to return to their first love. But, now, I think, perhaps they will. Perhaps they will have the opportunity to see Jesus in the way I know Him. 

But what if I didn't get the opportunity to see that in my lifetime. What if that person moved away and disappeared and I never saw her again, and I had no idea what happened to her? Would I still believe that I listened to the Lord as He asked me to love this person unconditionally? Or, is it only because I might actually get to see it that I believe it. 

These are 

hard

deep

big

challenging

questions. Questions that I may never get the complete answer to.

For now, I am excited that I get to experience these questions without intense pain and anxiety and depression.

This video below, I think, sort of explains HOW a Christian can learn to not trust themselves. Please note: I LOVE ME SOME JESUS! I have not turned from Jesus at all. I am also not specifically blaming someone in my life that forced this theology on me. Instead, I think it is simply a narrative that Christians "adopt" and kind of repeat without really thinking about the implications. I am trying to teach my children differently. I'm trying to tell them: JESUS WILL LEAD YOU. YOU CAN TRUST HIM. But I'm also trying to show them that Jesus often leads by allowing our body to understand what He is saying. Our bodies are temples of the Holy Spirit. We are MADE in his image. Therefore, our body CAN BE TRUSTED. I think many Christians do not trust their thoughts or bodies because we believe we are sinners at the core. We are! But we also have Christ living inside these broken bodies!

My Mental Health Story (Part 1)

The first time I remember ever feeling depressed, I was in high school. It lasted briefly -- off and on for a few weeks -- and then dissipated.

The next time I faced this demon was after the birth of our son, Elijah "Sidge". I had two boys under nine months apart. The depression did not take hold very significantly at this point. However, the anxiety of trying to please people was kicking into full-gear. 

And then after my daughter Abigail was born, I fell into a pretty deep pit. It started as what was just some "Baby Blues" but quickly morphed into a longer battle. We were in Turkey at the time, and I saw a counselor and used Zoloft to combat the PPD.

Again things went dormant. Until my last pregnancy with my daughter Hannah. We aren't sure exactly why, but this pregnancy was totally different than the others. By the time we did our IVF transfer, I was deep in a depression. In hindsight, we shouldn't have gone through with the procedure. I should have gotten healthy. But, I didn't, and I spent her entire pregnancy plagued by anxiety, panic attacks, depression, and intense nausea. It was ... HELL. Honestly. 

John and I worried that following her birth, the PPD would be even worse than it was with Abigail's emergence into the world. But in God's mercy, it was not. Nearly the moment that Hannah was born, the depression and sickness left, and I was able to enjoy our last year in the Azores with four children.

Around 2018? (I'm not really sure what year but I think it was close to this), I ended up going back on Zoloft again. This time it was intense anxiety that was dominating my thinking. 

Anxiety is hard to explain to people that haven't felt it. It seems like something you can just snap your fingers and "get out of it." It seems like you can just ask God to clear your mind. But it doesn't work that way. The anxiety is intense, all-consuming, and often "fanatical" in nature. In my case, the anxiety always centered around something someone said to me or what they thought of me. It always had to do with people-judgment.

Medication again. Anxiety gone again. Back onward and upward with my life. 

That's what I wish I would have understood. My husband was brilliant at dealing with panic attacks and anxiety and depression after years as a military doctor and now on the front line of people "thinking they were dying" with anxiety as they came into the Emergency Room. But neither of us understood that the anxiety I was experiencing had a ROOT CAUSE. 

Until 2024. 

It was actually in October of 2023 that, in search of help with my plaguing migraines, I went off all medicines -- specifically the Zoloft that I had been on for years. 

I really thought that I would be okay. I had grown-up a lot. I understood a lot more about myself as a people-pleaser. I could fix this. 

Wrong. So, so wrong.

By early February, we made the decision for me to go back on Zoloft again. Of course, this doesn't kick-in right away, and I was on a struggle bus with my anxiety. 

And this is where I see God all over my story. So many pieces had to come into play at the same time for me to get to the root of what was happening to me inside my brain. Inside my body.

It begin with me reaching out to Kim. Kim actually was Elijah's counselor for a brief time when we had returned to America. Elijah had faced some challenges in reintegrating back into American life. The stress of the move had broken him down a bit. And Kim helped us get to the bottom of what was going on with him. 

When we moved away from Kim in Spring Hill/Nashville and settled on the farm in East TN, we stayed in touch with Kim. And when the Pandemic rocked our world (and especially my husband as a front-line worker), I reached out to Kim for some help in the stress of that event. 

And now, it's 2024. Pandemic is over. But Wendi was struggling. So I sent Kim a message and asked if I could do a chat with her. She was actually on vacation but agreed to meet with me online. 

John was there for that call. And Kim nearly instantly "diagnosed" the problem. This was people-pleasing that I could not control. This had been hard-wired into my neural pathways -- either genetically or environmentally. 

And that meant it could be rewired. 

I wasn't sure what any of this meant ... exactly. But Kim discussed EMDR with both of us, and primarily with JB. At some point, I will do more discussion on what EMDR is exactly, but for now, let me say, that it's a way to help patients dealing with trauma (think PTSD).

Of course, this seemed extreme for me. I hadn't faced any trauma. I don't know if this was too drastic? But, I decided to move forward.

First, however, we had an amazing trip to Costa Rica scheduled at the end of February. I kept taking my Zoloft and went on the trip. I managed to keep my anxiety "hidden" from everyone except John and my friend Meredith, but inside, I was a tangled mess of anxiety. It was awful. And quite honestly, pushing myself through that trip, probably played into what happened when I reintegrated back into life.

We arrived home on a Sunday. Early on Monday, I was at my big homeschool co-op for our Mondays. I was on the Board of Heritage Home Scholars, but with my anxiety flaring like a mad-woman, suddenly I found every single possible conflict with people feeling like I was going to be shot. I'd rather have faced a bear in the woods than any possibility of conflict with a person. 

By the end of the day Monday, the breakdown had begun. I ended up sobbing in a Sunday School room with my friend Meredith (a mental health PA coincidentally ... or not so coincidentally.) I made an immediate decision to take a leave-of-absence from the Board. However, within a week, I made the decision to step off permanently. The anxiety inside of me had become so deafening, I was losing the ability to function in "normal" situations.

And that is important to note. I wasn't even facing any monumental situations with homeschool or with friendships or life that would evoke such a visceral reaction. These were tiny things that Wendi, medicated, would have zipped through with relative ease. 

And that's another part of my story. The fact that I zipped through everything relatively easily. I took on so much. Emotionally. Physically. Mentally. And just did it. Did it. Did it. Did the next thing. I will expand on this facet of my journey in posts that I will do in the future, but for now, I want to share that all of this had been brewing for years. Decades maybe.

Only I had no idea it was brewing at all. 

By early March, the anxiety I had been feverishly try to put back to sleep, had morphed into a depression. I am really not sure which of these beasts is worse: feeling so anxious you can't eat or sleep or being so sad that you can't eat or sleep. They both SUCK. They both defeat you. They both ruin any attempt at enjoying life. Terrible. Awful. I would not wish them on my worst enemy. Honestly.

I also could now connect with Kim as we were both home from our vacations. And we did. And we started EMDR. And I quickly realized that this people-pleasing was something I had learned. I had somehow, as a child, begun to see that I could only be "okay" if everyone else was "okay." My brain actually interpreted conflicts as REAL THREATS. My wiring was faulty. It was broken. 

And this meant that without good therapy, I probably would NOT be able to change this. Sure, books and effort and prayer and Jesus could help me. But it didn't matter how many times someone said to me, "Wendi, just don't worry what people think." I could not STOP the worry that would overcome me during those times. 

But here I was, completely and utterly destroyed to the very core of my being. I was losing weight rapidly. I couldn't eat. Could barely get out of bed. Could barely function. I usually managed to move my kids from thing to thing, but it was painful to do so. Every day felt like it was 10,000 hours long. I would wake up the next day only to dread having to face another day. Anxiety and depression robs you of life. 

I have no misunderstandings about what drives a person to kill themselves. I totally get what drives them to do so. It is that dark in that valley. It's terrible. Without Jesus? I have no idea how people survive. Truly, the thing I clung to the most in the darkest weeks was: "I will never allow my children to grieve as hard as I am grieving right now. I will take this pain for them." I had to live. That's all there was to it. There was no other option.

I also have an understanding of why people kill their children and then themselves. In those darkest moments, there is a part of you that says: "I don't want to hurt. But I don't want them to hurt. This world is pointless. You just move from one grief to another. What is the point? Will I just finish grieving with this depression and then have to get up and do this again with another loss in my life?"

In the course of all of this occurring, one of my dear friends, Tammy, lost her husband in a tragic and unexpected water accident while out of the country. This didn't help matters of course and only added to my "What is the point of this life?" feelings. Life was so hard. So so hard. So painful. All there was was pain,

Of course, that wasn't true. That isn't true. But that's what depression does. It lies to you. It tells you things that are not true. And you can't stop them from speaking. I could have a good day and know all the things. And then the next day, I couldn't remember ANY of those things. 

But, and here is where God is so crazy cool. He gave me JUST THE COMBINATION of people and support I needed to navigate through the crap that was threatening to kill me. My cousin Cara, who battled a similar journey for many more years than I could dream of, decided to walk through this CLOSELY with me. My Aunts. Friends. Family. I had a team. And I reached OUT. 

And now, here I am. It's May 8th, and I have spent the last week feeling like Wendi. The last two days, I started eating again without forcing myself to do so. I know if I am not careful, the silver lining to this whole journey (my loss of 45 pounds) will go down the drain. I'd like to not put all of that back on. But man, you miss loving food. When food is a chore, that isn't much fun. 

Anyways ... this is just Part 1. I will continue this story soon with more of what I have learned and am learning and will continue to learn. This will end up being one of the best things that ever happened to me. I know it.