Thank you to all of you who have visited and commented this past year. I have enjoyed sharing with you. May the new year bring new hope!
For a dose of laughter medicine click here.
May Dipsy Doodling Around Depression
be better than a therapy session!
Don't give up, I'm praying for you!
Wendy Love
Come and visit me over at 'On Blogging Well'! This is my first time to be a guest blogger.
Linda Fulkerson has put together a user friendly blog on the ins and outs of blogging. I am glad I found her. Her explanations are a little easier for this non-tech gal to follow.
Awhile ago I posted on a new resolve I am experiencing. This is just one of many steps towards wellness for me. You can be making steps, progressing too.
Progress - now there is a positive word! Here's a few meanings, you pick your favourite:
*steady improvement
*movement toward a goal
*to advance toward a higher or better stage
I have made progress, but when I am depressed I sure don't feel like it. However, when I think back on this journey, I see progress!
In the beginning, fourteen years ago, I was down and out depressed, unable to do much physically, unable to concentrate on anything and emotionally crippled. I was diagnosed with clinical depression, given an antidepressent and started to improve and have a life once again...for awhile. I would get depressed again, have the med increased, and feel better again...for awhile. When I felt good I felt really good. When I felt bad I wished I was dead.
That cycle continued for years. Several times I had to change meds. When I finally figured out that I was bipolar (after about ten years), the antidepressents were stopped and I was put on a mood stabilizer instead.
It worked! Well sort of. This is how it works for me. I no longer have the extreme highs (which I miss) but I no longer have out and out depression (which I don't miss). I still have highs and lows but they are not as extreme as they once were. I have learned to recognize a high or a low when it is coming on and I can usually divert it by resting. I have to be constantly watchng for the moods swings even though I take medication. If I didn't take the medication I would probably slip into a deep dark depression once again. The truth is that the highs are not as high as I would like and the lows are still lower than I would like, but it is still better than it was.
This is work, but this is also progress!
But, and yes, there is a but. I am greedy! I want to feel really good all the time. I want to be able to do what I want and live the way I want to live. I would like to be more involved in the outside world without having to worry that I might overdo it, or that it will be too much for me. I really am greedy but I cannot ignore this truth:
I have made progress!
With progress comes the hope of full recovery. I am allowed to hope. And with the progress I have made, I have every reason to hope, right?
What about you? Have you measured your progress lately? Do it today, you may be surprised!
For a dose of laughter medicine click here.
May Dipsy Doodling Around Depression
be better than a therapy session!
Don't give up,
I'm praying for you!
Wendy Love
Today I would like to share a favourite story from "Streams in the Desert, Book 2" entry date May 12.
"The story is told of a shabby old gentleman who every day at twelve o'clock would enter the church, stay a few minutes, then leave.
The caretaker was concerned for the valuable altar furnishings. Every day he watched to be sure nothing was taken, and every day just at twelve the shabby figure would arrive. One day the caretaker accosted him. "Look here, my friend, what are you up to, going into the church every day?"
"I go to pray" replied the old man politely.
"Now come", the cautious caretaker said, "you don't stay long enough to pray."
"True enough. I cannot pray a long prayer, but every day I just comes and says 'Jesus, it's Jim'.
Then I waits a minute, then comes away. I guess He hears me though it's but a little prayer."
One day Jim was knocked down crossing the street and was laid up in the hospital with a broken leg. The ward where Jim quite happily lay was a sore spot to the nurses on duy. Some of the men were cross and miserable, others did nothing but grumble from morning till night.
Slowly but surely the men stopped their grumbling and were cheerful and contented.One day as the nurse was walking through the ward she heard the men laughing.
"What has happened to all of you? You are such a cheerful lot of patients lately?"
"It's old Jim", they replied, "He's always cheerful, never complains, although he is uncomfortable and in pain."
The nurse walked over to Jim's bed where the silvery haired Jim lay with an angelic look on his smiling face.
"Well Jim, these men say you're the cause for the change in this ward. They say you are always happy."
"Aye, that I am, nurse. I can't help it. You see, nurse, it's my visitor. He makes me happy."
"Visitor?" The nurse was indeed puzzled for she had never noticed any visitor by Jim's bed. The chair was always empty during visiting hours. "When does your visitor come?"
"Every day," replied Jim with the light in his eyes growing brighter. "Yup, every day at twelve o'clock He comes and stands at the foot of my bed. I see Him there, and He smiles at me and says "Jim, it's Jesus."
Merry Christmas!
with love from Wendy Love
My grown-up Christmases continued along, spending them mostly with my husband's small unhappy family, and rushing to Toronto, five hours away from my home outside Ottawa to spend at least some time with my family.
All that travelling took the edge off of the festivities somewhat because I would be too tired to enjoy everyone once I got there. Then the babies started to come and of course that gives Christmas new meaning once again. When my oldest daughter was one, and I was pregnant with my second, I had some minor complications with the pregnancy (baby due in February) and my doctor suggested I not travel at Christmas. My parents were only too happy to come to us, and my sister spent Christmas with her in-laws. I was grateful to my parents, and even though that made our numbers a little larger, there still seemed to be something missing from my Christmas.
On Christmas morning my sister called around 6 am, knowing that I would be up, and said that her kids had been up since five and they had already opened all of their presents and were on their way to her in-laws to spend the day.
As my husband, my parents and I enjoyed watching my little girl (only one year old) and getting the food ready for Christmas dinner which my in-laws would be joining us for, I couldn't help but think of all of the past Christmases.... and then at around noon, a car rolled into our driveway.... it looked like my sister and her family, but how?????????????????
They had been preparing the surprise all along, everyone knew but me. I ran out into the cold, sobbing tears of joy, and took my sister into my arms. Right then I knew what had been missing in all of my adult Christmases, not all of those cousins or traditions, or even being in the home where I grew up, just my sister, my best friend, my one constant in my life.
As joyful as that Christmas was, I think I spent half of it crying, every time I would look at my dear sister. We promised each other that day, that whenever possible, from now on, we would spend our Christmases together. And we did, whenever possible. I am thankful for that one constant in my life, my sister.
There have been many changes since then, and so many more to come. My sister and I now live miles away from one another, me here in central Ontario, and her in North Carolina, but she is still a constant. We chat on the phone almost every day, and every Christmas morning she calls to wish me Merry Christmas and we both know that each other is thinking about the Christmases past, when we were together, two giggling sisters, through childhood, and motherhood, sicknesses, and health, good times and bad times.
We still giggle when we are together as if we were only 10 and 12. We will laugh at things that no one else thinks is funny except us, the two sisters. When we are together it is always like Christmas!
What about you? What makes Christmas, Christmas to you? Do you have any special memories you would like to share?
For a dose of laughter medicine click here.
May Dipsy Doodling Around Depression
be better than a therapy session!
Don't give up,
I'm praying for you....
Wendy Love
After surviving the discovery that Santa was not real, Christmases went along quite well for awhile as I continued to enjoy being surrounded by family. That was to change when my sister and I got married. We had other families to spend time with as well and so did not always manage to get everyone together anymore.
My first married Christmas was a whole new story. I was not really aware of how other families handled the season. Since my mother-in-law was widowed, and she only had one bachelor son besides my husband, so we decided that she needed us to spend Christmas with her instead of with my family. I thought she would be lonely otherwise because I equated Christmas happiness then with being with the entire family.
We were still in university at the time and I was only 21 years old. We drove 'home' to her house and got there on Christmas eve before she arrived home from work. When I walked in the door I was overwhelmed with the emptiness. There was not a Christmas decoration in sight! When she got home she was all tired and crabby and complaining about Christmas.She was not one for music either, so the house was silent. Not even a Christmas cookie to be found.
We had a wonderful dinner on Christmas day (she was a fabulous cook) but that was about as far as it went. There was no more family, no one dropping in, no fun at all. I felt like crying all day. (This in itself tells you that I had as yet in my young life experienced none of life's much greater sorrows.)I realized at that point that to me Christmas was being with family, it had nothing to do with presents at all. How I missed my family that day.
The following year my mom invited my mother-in-law and brother-in-law to join all of us for Christmas. At least I got be with my own family again, but my Christmases were never quite the same after that.
But how could it be?
Children grow up and move, things change, they must. That's just life.
We must move through the stages, learning as much as we can from each of them establishing new ways of doing things that suit for awhile and then making changes again where necessary.
Now, after sharing my most disappointing Christmas with you, tomorrow I will tell you about the best Christmas surprise ever!
Do you remember a particularly disappointing Christmas or would you rather not even go there?
For a dose of laughter medicine click here.
May Dipsy Doodling Around Depression
be better than a therapy session!
Don't give up,
I'm praying for you....
Wendy Love
I am not a good Christmas shopper. I don't like shopping at any time and so the whole present thing is a challenge for me. But now I am a grandma. Just because I don't like Christmas doesn't mean I want my grandkids to be bored when they come to my house.
This past Christmas I bought each of them a special book and something else which I can't remember. I don't like to over spend and there is no need because they already have so much. But I did want to add some fun without spoiling them.
So I was in the Dollar Store and discovered all of the neat things you could get for only one dollar. I decided to buy them and hide them and throughout the day, pretend to be surprised when I opened a cupboard or a drawer and found another gift! "Oh my, Santa must have forgotten to put that one out!"
I chose things we could do. So for instance, one was some kind of little hair-do set and so after we played in the hot tub for awhile and we were getting dressed, I found those things and we worked on our hair. When the baby went down for a nap I found a colouring book and crayons and we worked on that for awhile. When I had to start doing some kitchen things I found some kitchen utensils all wrapped up and they helped in the kitchen. (that gift was the biggest hit of all!)
We got more fun out of those cheap things than we did out of other gifts. You don't have to spend much money to have fun with gift giving.
Do you have any ideas of cheap gifts that added a little fun to Christmas?
For a dose of laughter medicine click here.
May Dipsy Doodling Around Depression
be better than a therapy session!
Don't give up,
I'm praying for you....
Wendy Love
Isn't that a cute picture? You can find anything on the internet! Today's story is about a fun idea I had one year to camouflage presents. I am not very creative when it comes to Christmas so this one sticks out in my mind. I hope you enjoy it.
I had an amazing mother. She was beautiful and funny and loving as well as a talented artist. Sometimes as a young awkward girl, I would feel slightly dimmed by the shadow she cast.
But I remember one time she had a showing of her art. My sister and I usually went to these events. Everyone would say "you must be so proud of your mother" and I would say yes (although inside I was thinking 'well, I am kind of used to it, this is really no big deal for me'). If I was standing with my mother when someone came to her and raved about her work, she would put her arms around me and say "this is my best work right here". I am thankful for a mother who could keep things in proper perspective.
She did the same thing with Christmas. Oh sure, she decorated and baked and bought us a few lovely gifts, and sent Christmas cards and the whole bit.... but she would emphasize that it was a just a day among the 365 days of the year and we knew she loved us every day, not just on days where there were gifts and fussing around.
When we grew up, whenever we all got together, no matter what the time of year, she would hug herself and smile as she looked at us and she would say "it is just like Christmas!" indicating that the best part of Christmas was just being together.
She knew how to prioritize. I am thankful also that she did not react to my clumsiness. If I spilled milk or broke a glass she would never get angry, she and I would just clean it up together. If she could see that I was upset she would make sure that it just didn't matter, it was just milk, or it was just a glass. Milk and glasses don't matter, people do.
I will never forget, when she had terminal cancer and she only had a few days or weeks left, she was in her bedroom, and I was in the kitchen getting something ready for her and I dropped a glass. It made quite a crashing noise on the tile floor. In her weakened state she called from her bedroom "Merry Christmas!" which lightened the concern over the broken glass and reminded me that she didn't worry about such things.
May you be able to keep Christmas in perspective this year. Give to it what you can, take from it what you can, ignore it if you want. God has created you and he knows all about you, your joys and sorrows, your needs and your wants, your good memories and your painful ones. My prayer for you is that God will bless you this Christmas in a way that is special, just for you, and in a way that has little to do with this man-made season.
Have I tweeked some of your memories? Would you like to share?
For a dose of laughter medicine click here.
May Dipsy Doodling Around Depression
be better than a therapy session!
Don't give up,
I'm praying for you....
Wendy Love
Just the word 'story' in this household catches attention. At least that is what I discovered this past thanksgiving. I stopped my kitchen preparations for a minute to join everyone in the living room and tell them about something funny that happened which I thought they would enjoy. As soon as I said 'I've got a story to tell', my granddaughters, two and a half and four, stopped their play and came and sat at my feet, ready to hear a story! They assumed it was a story for them.
So, I have a question for all of us. Where do those unrealistic expectations of Christmas come from? Certainly television and retail advertising have blown up the idea of Christmas in a way that absolutely no one needs to live up to. But I would suggest that your selective childhood memories of Christmas might be adding to that too. That is if you had a happy childhood like I did.
Indulge while I reminisce a bit.
Every year, after the tree was decorated, my mom would stand back and admire her handiwork and say "that is our best tree ever". I am thankful for a mother who was such a positive person, spoke mostly nice things and kept the ugly thoughts to herself, and who saw the world through rose coloured glasses much of the time.
I remember going out with my dad to get a tree. We were city people, so we bought if from a lot, but it was a real tree, everyone still had real trees. If it was just Dad and I doing this errand, I was thrilled. I worshiped my dad and time spent in his presence to this child was as good as 'an audience with the king'. He would ask my opinion about the trees and make me feel that this was a team effort. When we got the tree home, we would put it up together as a family, at least that is what I remember.... My mom would put on Christmas music and attempt to make this a memorable part of the season. To me it was.
I then contrast this to some of my own first married Christmases.... not one resembled this until my girls were old enough to really take part. Sometimes we actually went out together as a family and chopped down our own tree, but other times getting their dad to get the tree somehow ended up being a tug of war and by the time the tree was in place, I was often full of resentment and disappointment. But the girls made up for that as they were enthusiastic and very useful decorators.
When you have so many happy childhood memories, it is hard to measure your adult life beside that. If I could interview my own mom right now, she could probably share with me some of the tensions she experienced during the Christmas season as a wife, and mother. But she put a good face on it and made it happy for her children.
Many, many years later, the first Christmas after my mom died, both daughters were fully grown, I can remember another Christmas tree. I was away for a few days in December, not looking forward to my first Christmas without my mom, and suffering from yet another bout of depression and when I got home, there was the tree, all done! My youngest daughter had done the whole thing for me! What a present!
As an older adult, the tree is mostly just another chore for me. But like when I was a young mother who wanted to make some magic for my own children, I now perform this 'chore' to make some magic for my grandchildren. I look at some of the decorations with new eyes, the eyes of a grandmother, and I think about how the little ones will enjoy certain decorations over others.
I leave you with a question: how does a good parent balance providing their children with happy Christmas memories but at the same time, realistic expectations? If you have any ideas on this, please share!
For the next few days leading up to Christmas I would like to share some Christmas stories from my past. I hope you enjoy them.
If you have a Christmas story to share, please do!
For a dose of laughter medicine click here.
May Dipsy Doodling Around Depression
be better than a therapy session!
Don't give up,
I'm praying for you....
Wendy Love
Last time I suggested that we all make a 'not to do' list so we can attempt to NOT be overwhelmed by Christmas.
One of the things that gets to me about Christmas is the pressure to not forget 'the real meaning of Christmas'. I am a christian and I love Jesus Christ 365 days of the year, and not just on Christmas. I am not about to be pressured to become more of a christian for one season. Having said that, I would like to share this shortened history (in my own words) about the 'real meaning of Christmas'. It may surprise you.
The festival which we now call Christmas was started long before Christ was born. Many countries had festivals at this time of year, marking the winter solstace. The festivities would include many of the things we still do today, lights, parades, decorated trees, and other traditions.
The Christians were not to be outdone by the rest of the world and so added Christ to these sorts of festivals and there you have it! Christmas!
No one knows for sure when Christ was born but the church in Rome decided to set a date for that celebration, and December 25th was chosen.
So, if you can't 'get into it' don't feel badly. It is just a festival. Pick the parts you like and throw the rest of it out the window! Set your own standards.
Style your own Christmas to suit you and your family! Understanding what the Christmas season is all about (just a festival) will guard you, and release you from some of the pressures.
Is that a little bit of help? Do you have any ways that you guard yourself from the pressures of Christmas? Would you like to share them with us?
For a dose of laughter medicine click here.
May Dipsy Doodling Around Depression
be better than a therapy session!
Don't give up,
I'm praying for you....
Wendy Love
Oh the pressures to be jolly! This season is hard on everyone, but especially if you suffer from depression.
But, don't lose heart. With a few precautions you might even be able to enjoy the season, without leaving town. But if leaving town is an option, then go for it!
There are numerous magazine articles on how to avoid some of the pressures of Christmas for anyone. But we need something a little more tailored for those of us who live with the challenges depression brings.
I would like to recommend this article by Julie Fast. It is in her latest newsletter which you can subscribe to by going to her website(and then by signing up for her newsletter) and it is called "Creating Positive, Stress Free and Enjoyable Holidays". If you have any trouble finding it, email me and I will forward my newsletter to you. I can't put it right in this post without breaking copyright.
Since we tend to suffer from overwhelm, and unrealistic expectations, there is a lot to avoid for this season. We don't need a 'to do' list, we need a 'not to do' list.
Make your 'what not to do', and 'who not to see' lists in order to avoid some of the pitfalls. Only you know what those pitfalls are.
Next time I would like to chat a bit about what this season is really about. I think you will be surprised at what I have to say!
So, how about you? Do you like Christmas? Are you armed and ready for the attack on your emotions this month? Share your challenges and maybe some of us can share some solutions that worked for us.
For a dose of laughter medicine, click here.
May Dipsy Doodling Around Depression
be better than a therapy session!
Don't give up,
I'm praying for you....
Wendy Love
When you look at this picture what words come to mind?
'idyllic' ?
'serene' ?
'magical' ?
'romantic'?
'family' ?
Do you find yourself imagining that inside that house there is some happy mother preparing hot chocolate for everyone? When the children come in they will take off their wet clothes and hang them by the fire to dry (without being told to and without fighting). Waiting for them will be their steaming hot chocolate with marshmallows on the top, and maybe a gingerbread cookie to go with it. When someone announces that it is time for bed, off they go without protesting.
Then the mother and dad sit by the open fire with their hot chocolate and enjoy one another's company without words. They are in complete peace with one another.
Is this what a picture like this makes you think of?
There is a lot of pressure around Christmas to all of a sudden think that there are perfect families out there who get along all the time and especially at Christmas. There is a notion that Christmas can bring out the best in families.
All of these lies, and that is what they are, further fuel the voices that the depressed person is already battling. Now you must add the Christmas voices to your other voices. I did a few posts on the voices of depression which you may want to review.
But for the next few days I am going to focus on Christmas, on what it is, and on what it isn't.
For a dose of laughter medicine click here:
May Dipsy Doodling Around Depression
be better than a therapy session!
Don't give up,
I'm praying for you!
Wendy Love
