PTSD, it's not just for battlefields.

So, last month, I was diagnosed with PTSD.

I am not one to go in and discuss my feelings with a doctor

as demostrated when I waited 7 months to tell my doctor

that I was feeling a little "blue" after I had Brendell in 2003.

Feelings like that had been foreign to me up until that point.

But there was no denying the change.

Almost immediately after my c-section I felt different.

For seven months I felt different.

I kept thinking that it was my fault that I was not myself

so it took alot for me to go to my doctor.

I was not the lay in bed kind of depressed,

but I was having irrational fears about my new baby

and feeling completely inadequate.

I felt like everyone was judging me and

that they secretly thought that I was a horrible person.

This was the total opposite of my normal personality,

so at the prompting of my husband, I went to our assigned doctor on base.

She diagnosed me with post pardom depression

and put me on Zoloft.

I gained 15 pounds in 6 weeks and begged her to change my meds.

She switched me to Effexor claiming that it generally did not cause weight gain.

I put on 30 more pounds over the next four months

and was basically emotionally numb.

I went through the motions of motherhood,

but I felt very little.

I decided I'd rather be paranoid then a fat zombie,

so I weaned myself off of Effexor

and my hormones eventually worked themselves out.

By the time Bren was two and a half,

things were back to normal for me.

The weight, however, has stuck around give or take 10 pounds.

So, you can see why I was so reluctant this time

to tell my doctor what I have been dealing with over the past 6 months.

But, my symptoms were getting more and more bothersome,

so I really had no other choice than to have that

"please tell me I'm not crazy" conversation again.

I always thought PTSD was just for soldiers who had experienced

horrible things on the battlefield,

but the truth is that trauma (any trauma) is damaging in many ways.

Near death experiences change you,

and not always in the "I almost died, so now I'm going to go do amazing things

with my second chance" kind of ways.

Sometimes it makes you question your ability to protect yourself

and those for whom you are responsible.

Sometimes it makes you feel guilty for having exposed your loved ones

to such an event.

Sometimes it makes you feel like it was your fault for not

being able to avoid the trauma.

Sometimes when you don't heal back exactly how you were

it makes you feel both angry at your lack of control

and horrible for not being thankful that you healed at all.

I have been reliving my tubing accident more often than I'd like to

when I close my eyes to go to sleep

or when I catch myself zoning out in the middle of the day.

I have irrational fears about things I'm usually not afraid of.

We almost brought Bren with us that day and she would have been

on my raft with me.

That thought consumes too much of my time

and it's irrational to get so worked up over something that did not happen.

The fear I experience is strong enough to cause tightening in my chest,

difficulty breathing and restless sleep.

My usual "roll with the punches" attitude has been replaced

by someone who can't handle stress very well

and who flies off the handle more often.

I'm just not me.

Luckily, I have an awesome doctor now

who really listens to me and we decide together on a course of treatment.

She knew that I would absolutely not take anything

that made me feel like a zombie or put a single pound on me,

so we researched together something that had a low chance of doing either.

I'm taking Wellbutrin and so far I've lost 13 pounds

and I haven't felt that tightening in my chest in weeks.

I'm so relieved that I don't have to trade extra pounds and

emotional numbness for my sanity.

I'm also relieved to know that everything I was feeling

has a name and a solution

and it wasn't just that I was too weak to handle the trauma

or too selfish to be thankful that I am alive.

I'm still getting used to the medicine in my system

and I'm working on becoming more like me again.

It took alot for me to blog about this.

I don't like to broadcast my weaknesses.

Many of my closest friends don't even know what has been going on.

I don't like to stir up concern for me.

I'd rather comfort than be comforted,

and I like to be perceived as someone who

is strong and can be counted on

not someone who needs help.

I am energized by encouraging and being there for others,

but it is so hard for me to be that person who needs strength

from other people.

So, I hid everything, put on a smile

and pretended as best as I could,

but I wanted you to know why I've been so sporadic with my posting

over the last 6 months.

Sometimes I just couldn't get outside of my own head enough

to post anything relevant or interesting.

Hopefully, most of this is behind me now

and I can look forward to much brighter days ahead.

More Like Crush

Watching your children turn into adults takes a huge amount of faith.

I mean huge!

No one tells you how to do it.

Those who have been there can help you prepare

by telling you their stories,

but they can't tell you how.

I think it's because

they don't really know how they got through it themselves.

I know how to protect and nurture a newborn.

I know how to guard a two year old from his own self.

I know how to teach a child the morals and values of our faith.

I even know how to enjoy the tween and middle teen years.

but I do not know how to confidently watch an 18 year old

run head strong into obvious mistakes,

without trying to cushion his fall.

I am learning though.

I am becoming increasingly aware that

to learn and grow, sometimes you have to

fall flat on your face.

Alot of us came to the places we are today

because we got up from that fall

wiser and more aware of how to survive in this world.

But still.....

watching it is easily the hardest thing I have ever done.

It's the letting him fall part that I find so difficult.

He's a great kid with awesome potential,

and I know that his stubborness is going to serve him well someday

if he learns to channel it in the right direction.

I know in my heart of hearts that he's going to be ok.

It's just going to be quite a ride getting there!

This clip from Finding Nemo has a nice little lesson in it for me.

Right now my "squirt" is struggling outside of the current.

Like Marlin,

I want to go grab him by the hand and pull him back to safety.

But, Crush is confident that his little guy will find his way back.

He's sure that all of the things Squirt has learned

up until now will kick in and Squirt will

know how to get back into the current on his own.

I think that the confidence that Crush has empowers Squirt.

Squirt's excitement and joy at conquering something difficult

would never have happend if Crush had gone to rescue him.

The joy is in the struggle!

So, at this stage in my life,

I am trying to be less like Marlin and more like Crush!

I can't wait for the day my struggling swimmer

bursts out of the deep and into the current

shouting, "Did you see that?! Did you see what I did?!"

I'm sure his dad and I will say what we already know about him

"You so totally rock, dude!!"

Because he does.

Flexibility

So a few days ago,

I put on my facebook status

a few lines of a converstaion

I had with Brendell.

She had been looking through a book

with pictures of snakes and worms in it.

She asked her dad,

"What is the most flexible thing in the world?"

Knowing she was looking at books with animals in it,

David said, "Probably a worm."

I laughed and said,

"Bren, the most flexible thing

in the whole wide world

is a Navy wife!"

I am a mentor in a group called COMPASS.

We mentor young navy wives

and provide information, resources, friendship

and "been there" stories for those

just beginning to navigate this crazy life.

One of our visual aids is a stretchy figurine of popeye.

We'll hold him and bend his legs back,

twist his arms around and contort him

into impossible positions

to emphasize the fact that we always need to

keep an open mind, an open heart,

and an openess to change.

Flexibility.

It's the number one quality

that gets us through

with the maximum amount of sanity.

This week I am popeye.

I am bending and contorting my plans.

About 10 days ago talk began about us transfering early.

There are several reasons for this and

there are lots of pros and cons to

going ahead with it.

David's career may or may not be affected by it.

We'll have to wait and see what happens over the next few years.

He will have to work a little harder to make up for

what he didn't get here,

but he's no stranger to hard work

and I think he really enjoys the challenge of beating the odds

and coming out on top.

He's done it on numerous occassions

so I have much faith that he can do it again.

Given the stresses in our family,

moving,

although it might be the harder road career wise,

is the only choice David felt right about making.

I respect him so much for choosing family

over chasing the dollar.

I am so proud of how far my husband

has come since enlisting

as a baby faced seaman.

He's now a commissioned officer

with so many honors and accomplishments.

He has done well....more than well

in his naval career

and while this choice certainly doesn't end his chances

of continuing to make rank,

it does present some new challenges.

We weighed all of this when making our choice

and family tipped the scales.

After coming off of 10 years of sea duty,

his presence in our home over the next three years

is going to be invaluable as our sons transition

into adult manhood.

The fact that we were given this choice

at this time in our lives is such a gift.

And so,

my flexibility comes into play again

as we speed up our time table

and prepare to make another cross country move in the

very near future!

We still don't have an exact move date,

but we do have a destination.

David will be working at the

Office of Naval Intelligence

in Suitland, MD.

So, Bren,

like I said before,

I bet I can out stretch a silly old worm any day!

365 project #11

Bren and her friends last night

waiting for a cooking class.

They had so much fun!

365 project #10

Five days of rain.

I miss my view!

365 project #9

This is what happens when

you send teenage boys

out to the store to

pick up a gallon of milk!

the steps....

For those that asked to see the steps in the

previous blog post story....

here ya go!

365 project #8

I once booked a session for a family

where the father was very much into photography.

He took me aside and let me know that he

had been all over the yard trying to find places

for me to take the photos

and gave me a list of areas he wanted me to use.

I wasn't feeling many of them,

but he was persistent,

so I lined his family up and shot at his suggested locations.

I felt....trapped.

I knew how drab and passionless

the photos were going to be

but I kept snapping away

waiting to be released.

Finally, when I had exhausted all of

his desired locations,

he said, "I hired you for your eye,

so do you have any areas where you want to shoot?"

Like a bird let loose from a cage,

I grinned and pointed to an old weed ridden

stone staircase that had caught my eye as soon as I got there.

He shook his head and told me all the reasons

why he thought it was not a good location.

It was damp and ugly.

Some of the steps were crumbling and

covered with dirt clumps.

It was not something that they saw any value in

and would certainly not want to see in a photo.

I didn't say a word but I smiled at him,

pointed to my eye and then to the staircase.

I was asking him to trust me.

He led his family to the stone steps

and I shot as they sat and cozied up to eachother.

I framed two giggling raven haired girls,

a pleasantly smiling mother

and a doubting, but grinning father

in my lens

and shot what came to be

their favorite family photo

of the whole day.

The rustic stone steps,

darkened a bit from a recent rain,

with bits of green weeds and newly fallen yellow leaves

strewn about proved to be an unlikely

but absolutely perfect perch for

a somewhat controlling father

and his gorgeous family.

In the end he saw what I saw.

In photography it's all about the eye.

The eye is what tells the story

through positioning all of the necessary components

in just the right way.

To the subject it might seems nuts,

but it's nuts with a purpose

if the person in control

sees the big picture.

And so it is with life.

Right now I'm sitting on some ugly, damp steps

wondering what in the world is going to come of a few situations in my life.

But I know that God knows the big picture

and if I just trust his eye,

I will get a beautiful family portrait out of this.

Even if I am sitting on weeds.

365 project #7

Multiple choices

365 project #6

My boys just before kick off

of the BCS Championship game.

Go Bama!