Ran't on Can't

Yes, I did that 't on Rant on purpose.
It gives it a little flair, don't you think??

OK - fine it's an attention getter for my fellow grammar / spelling Nazis out there.
You're welcome.



I've become increasingly annoyed by the amount of people who throw around the "I can't" line lately.

Really? Can't?
Ever heard of Oscar Pistorius?  Maybe he's a bad example being in prison and all, BUT stay with me a moment, will you? His pending murder conviction aside, this man is a DOUBLE AMPUTEE, former Olympic SPRINTER hopeful. The loss of 2 legs did not stop him from running.  He didn't "can't" - at least not in this instance. (hard to be delicate when you use a poor example).

Clearly my blog posts aren't all well thought out and mapped out - they go from brain to finger - so ride along with me further, won't you?

The hubs and I are foster parents. In truth, which he will agree, I do all the parenting work. In any case - I get a lot of "I can't" from some of these kids about themselves, or their parents. The "they can't" nonsense. No - they/you CAN - you just choose not to. They CAN work. They CHOOSE not to. You CAN read a book. You CHOOSE not to.

Can't doesn't fly with me. It never really did. Mostly because I suffer from a long stream of "I wants" (working on that) and I am ultra persistent (read pain in the ass) and I don't generally stop until I get what I want, I take a break or I don't want it anymore. Can't has never really stepped in front of me because I kick it out of my way. Maybe that's just me.

It's a choice - Crawl under a rock or claw your way up.

Is anyone else out there feeling me on this?

I don't accept "I can't" from my kids. I push the "CAN" and "WILL".

Isn't that the way things should be?

Shouldn't we be pushing our kids to dream big?  To go get what they want & bring it home to mamma for a big GREAT JOB, and to ride that into their future?

When did things get so lax?
When did it become OK to sit back and wait for someone to give you what you need instead of getting off your arse and getting it yourself? When did "can't" become the norm and people responding to "can't" with rewards?

I don't get it.

For me, it will always be can and will.
I will teach my kids the same.

Am I crazy?

Thank you for reading my blog!

~Jenn

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How'd your dad / brother die? Oh, they committed suicide....

It never rolls off your tongue just like that...It doesn't.

It's more awkward.
No, it's not just awkward it's totally uncomfortable to wonder how to just spit those words out.

What do you say? My dad & brother shot themselves. They took their lives. My dad & brother committed suicide. What do you say? It's been more than 30 years now. You'd think that 30 plus years would set things little at ease.

They do - the 30 years, that my dad has been gone have gotten easier. The thoughts are always there. Just not right smack in the front of my mind like they used to be - but the reminders are everywhere.
This past Saturday was my dad's birthday.
The 27th is the date that Eric will be dead for 8 years.
Yeah, I think about it. It's there. It's always there.

I don't think anyone who's been through suicide ever forgets. You remember. Everything. Every.Last.Detail. Every.Last.Second of Every.Single.Thing that you did when you heard the news.
When the phone rang. When the police showed up at the front door. Every song. Every smell. It stays with you, and you remember how it felt to not know how to say how they died.

...and you worry.

Will it happen again?

I haven't written in a while. Mostly because I didn't think I had anything to say. Then I opened my Facebook news feed and saw that someone else that I know is struggling, in the same way that I did, to not know how to say that their family member took their own life. Died by suicide.

It was at that moment that I decided to write for her and others like her. Like you. Like someone else. Struggling for the words to say - they died by suicide.

To say that they just couldn't take one more second of pain.

As always, with these types of blog posts - I implore you - if you are suffering - PLEASE - do not suffer in silence. Someone will listen to you. Someone DOES care. Someone DOES love you. Someone WILL miss you. Someone WILL struggle with the words - they died by suicide.

Please reach out.

You are loved.

Thank you for reading my blog.

~Jenn

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Facebook... To Connect or Disconnect. That is the question.

I can remember hearing about Facebook for the first time.
My husband and I had been new volunteers through our area chapter of Young Life.


Our volunteer position was to pick up a high school girl and bring her to and from Young Life group meetings. We loved hearing her stories about school, and friends, and her college preparations.  It was in this discussion that she mentioned Facebook to me as a site that helped college kids meet others, etc.  I thought - wow, pretty cool and I never thought of it again.

I never thought of it again UNTIL my young son became a teenager.

When he first started out it was MySpace. Like any over protective mom of a teenaged boy who likes to step on the line, I also got an account. He accepted me on his friend's list and I kept an eye on him. All of the sudden, the page got really slow. He was "hiding" on me, but WHERE the HECK was he hiding...FACEBOOK!!

So I joined Facebook and he became my friend on Facebook as well. His friends also became my friend on Facebook, ya know - since I was the cool mom (insert eye roll here.). It was still handy in keeping the kids out of trouble and communicating as I or they needed to. I didn't bother much with it until I learned that people I hadn't seen in years might also be on Facebook too!! I'd dabbled in Classmates.com and I tripped over myself on MySpace. I was totally weirded out with Facebook until I learned that there were long lost people EVERWHERE in there! I thought, wow, this could REALLY help me to connect with people I'd love to be in touch with again. Friends that live far away. Family I hadn't seen in years. I was hooked!! I LOVED IT!! It all seemed so WONDERFUL!!
Until it wasn't.

I'd recently heard and read via other media sources that Facebook has been thought to cause depression because some people couldn't handle seeing other having better lives than them. Again, can I get an eye roll here....Sheesh.

On that level, I think it's totally ridiculous.
Who the hell cares what other people are doing? If you are so unhappy with your life that you can't stand to see others having a good life - you need to do something about that and maybe get the heck OFF Facebook.

On another level...I can totally see it.

Have you noticed how absolutely MEAN Facebook is making people?

It's as if people actually believe that they are entitled to "say" mean things to people just because they're typing the words and not actually speaking the words.

The Facebook society seems to have created this "it's all about me" mentality.

I sort of get it...Facebook IS a solo sport. I mean, really - it's you and the computer. If the computer screen isn't talking to you, than who the heck is it talking to??  And DAMN that person who posted that comment. HOW DARE THEY?

I get it, but I don't.

I recently put up a random post on my page. I didn't think it was a big deal.  It was an opinion thing, run of the mill, nothing controversial. This post incited so much anger in one person, based on another person's opinion. This other person completely internalized the comment and flat out attacked this other total stranger.

This isn't just my issue. I see more than a fair share of page administrators stating how they have to ban and block people constantly due to mean or even threatening comments based on a silly post.
Yes, of COURSE we want feedback and reactions! Do we want people attacking other people or us? NO.  For the love of all that's holy, IT'S FACEBOOK! Get a hold of yourselves!

I wonder, if this were a face to face conversation or a conversation overheard from one table to another in a diner - would this person EVER have the nerve to react in such anger toward another?

The meanness on here is relentless.

I had once been accused of being a keyboard coward, which I took with a grain of salt due to its source. Truth be told - if I have something to say, I don't hide behind my keyboard. I say what I have to say to the person.
May it come out in my blog as well?  Who knows...If the situation could help someone else - yes.  I don't feel guilty because I've already addressed it. I try to NOT do that, but if I do and you think it's you...ASK. It's probably not.

Anyway, I'm getting off topic.

The point is - that if you heard LIVE AND IN PERSON one stranger saying something to another stranger that offended you or that you didn't agree with, would you ever have the nerve to flat out blast them? Most people would not. I would not.

I don't know what gives the people the idea that it's totally OK to say the meanest things possible to someone else based on what they do and do not agree with, just because it's being typed instead of spoken.

I'm not claiming innocence. I've had my share of things that I've typed in words. In my defense, I do actually have conversations and speak the words if I'm upset or angry about something. Have I been guilty of a "poison pen" email?  Um, yes I have. In some cases I've been absolutely remorseful about what I'd said, and apologized. Other times I'm so thankful that I finally had a chance to say what I had to say without interruption and be done with it.

Does that make me better? No. As I said, I don't claim innocence.

What I am saying is that I can totally understand why Facebook is making people feel bad.

Someone will post something totally innocuous (and this is NOT just my experience, though this has been my experience in the past) and five people will decide the comment is about them and either flat out attack them on their page, attack them on their own page or attack them in real life by spouting off to others what they took the remark or shared post to mean.

I have been called negative. I have been called hypocritical. I have been called things I won't even say on here - when the fact is that sometimes I just see a post that I like for one reason or another and I share it. If it is an emotion I'm feeling at the moment - whatever. That doesn't mean it's open season on Jenn, or that I'm inciting some sort of secret battle with another. Sometimes it just is what it is - a random post.

Will I post something that can be construed as mean, or something I think is funny that others won't - yes. I probably will. Not everyone going to love everything I share or post, or even know my state of mind at the time of the post, and that's OK.

I am putting this onto myself at the moment because I can relate - but also because it's a topic that I've seen people discuss over and over and over again - shutting down their Facebook accounts because it's just so mean and petty some times.

I totally get it!

I often think, "Is it even worth it to have a Facebook account?"

Then I realize that I can't control what other people think or feel. If I don't want to see the negativity other people post, well - I can control that.

I stay because I blog. I stay because I believe that some of the things that I have to share might actually help someone else going through the same stuff, and if the crap I've been through can help someone else - great. I also like to see the lives of my friends and family that live far away. I stay for some of the reasons I had when I first learned about Facebook. To connect with the people I love and care about.

I'm not going to let the negativity of someone else take that away from me.

...instead I choose to disconnect from the drama that others seem to thrive on.  I choose to disconnect from the people or things that will hurt me or people I care about. I choose to disconnect from the meanness that I don't want in my life.  I don't see it, so it doesn't exist.

You can disconnect from all of that as well.

I wish you peace.

Thank you for reading my blog!

~Jenn


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Please don't leave. If you don't think you'll be missed, think again...

Every year around this time I get all blah...

Not only is seasonal depression still lingering, because Mother Nature can't figure out which season should be in play - I'm also rolling into the time of year that I lost my dad.


It's been 31 years.  I still miss him every day.

I'm not 100% sure this blog will be well put together or easily flowing.  It is totally unedited and will be 100% my feelings, my thoughts, my ramblings as they come out of me today - 31 years (tomorrow) after my dad killed himself.

For those of you reading for the first time - on March 28, 1984 my dad took his own life.
It's a day that is etched so far into my mind I can still close my eyes and see/feel every single moment as if it's happening over again.

Because of what I've been through, I take this time of year to tell my side of it as a way to help others who may be suffering from depression or suicidal thoughts to realize they do mean something to someone, no matter how you may feel - AND to help people like me to know that it's totally OK to still feel the pain and still not be able to make sense of any of it.

If you want to read "My Story" click here:   How Suicide Has Affected Me.  My Real Life Story


I am LUCKY to have gotten to where I am without depression, without suicidal thoughts and without full on self-destructive behavior. (though I definitely walked the line.)  I am thankful every day that I am not someone who suffers from depression.  Thankful!

I was 18 when my dad died.
Even though it's been 31 years - that's 31 years of stuff that he missed.  That I missed having him here for.  Do you know how much happens in 31 years?  How many things you're forced to figure out for yourself as a child of someone who committed suicide?  Yes, he DID miss them.  I don't want to hear that he "Didn't miss anything, he's been right there watching."  Those are the nice things people like to say when someone is mourning.  While it may be true - my dad wasn't HERE WITH ME because he CHOSE to leave - and that is what's different.  That's where the anger, sadness, pain come in.  Because he CHOSE to go.

My family life wasn't all sunshine & flowers.  I lived with my dad.  So when he was gone, it was just me to figure it out.  And it's the words of another that forced me to figure it out...

The words I'll never forget that were spoken to me.  Words that both tore me down and forced me to build myself.  "Just because your father's dead, don't think you can move back in with me."
At the time those words terrified me.  I hated and resented those words.  The felt vile and completely unloving.  My dad was all I had and he was gone.  What now?

Whatever the sentiment behind those words at the time, I'm grateful for them now as they forced me to figure it out for myself.  Those words created the survivor that I am.  I figured it out for myself because I had no choice in the matter. I'm a better / stronger person today because of those words.

Do you know what it's like to be 18 and alone with no guidance??  How about dropping some insurance money into the mix?  That alone was a recipe for disaster.

I was LUCKY.

I didn't have my dad, the perpetual voice of reason, guiding my steps.  Steering me out of trouble in his own way.

I was only 18 years old when my father committed suicide.  I'm not saying that I didn't know my dad. He was my dad, of course I knew him.  I just didn't KNOW him as one adult knows another.  I knew him as the little girl I once was.

Yes, I know... many kids lose their parents.  Losing your parent to suicide is a whole new ball game.  You don't know how to feel.  You don't know what to say.  You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or brave or protective or victimized.  It's like being naked in the middle of a crowd.  You're completely vulnerable.

I both lost it completely AND totally held it together at the same time.  Sometimes I think I still do.


Right now, I am older than my dad was when he died.  When I think about that alone, it saddens me how much he lost.  So many things he missed.

I think that's one of the things those who are suicidal don't get... the tomorrows that they will miss.  I can't say for sure as I'm lucky enough to not suffer from suicidal thoughts or depression.  Even though I've lived through the deaths of both my father and brother by suicide, I'm no expert on the subject.  I can only speak of my thoughts, feelings and the things told to me in grief counseling.

It was said that a sad person can still function.  Still cares about the day to day activities, those who need to be tended to.  A depressed person still cares, but does only what needs to be done.  If the house is on fire - they'll burn with the house.  That's a lot to take in.

All these years since my dad died, I often think about the things he's missed.  I think about the mistakes I'd made because I didn't have my dad to ask me what the hell I was thinking.  He was good at that.  He'd never tell me what or what not to do, but he'd steer me.  He was the only one that could do that.

For those of you left behind - I get you.  I feel how you feel.  Lost for answers.  Even if you got a "note" (I didn't) you still don't totally get it.  All you feel is the pain, the loss, the anger and the confusion.  I know.  It's 31 years and typing this mish mosh of feelings - I still don't get it.

If you are someone struggling, some one who thinks they won't be missed - I have news for you - YOU WILL BE MISSED.  In that split second between life & death where you make your decision - make it be the decision to live - to go on - to fight.  There is another tomorrow to figure it out.  Tomorrow may not be filled with all you've dreamed of - but if you keep dreaming, there's the next day and the next day.  One second, one minute, one hour, one day - one breath at time.

It's OK to be sad.  It's OK to feel like things just totally suck.  It's NOT OK to quit on yourself and everyone who loves you.  Just because you're not getting what you want at this second - doesn't mean the next second won't get better.  Stick around to see it.  Please.

Don't leave someone you love left behind to wonder WHY?  To be alone.  To feel the pain.  To feel the loss.  To feel the anger over and over again of the decision you made to check out.

Please talk to someone - anyone.  SOMEONE will listen.

Choose life.

Thank you for getting through this mess of feelings.

Peace & Love,

Jenn

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When you're not coping with the loss of a loved one

I talked to a friend the other day who's been through some pretty tragic losses one right after the other.

Their life is almost on hold because of these losses, as if what was lost no longer validated what still is.

I was without words.  I got it.

That was me not too long ago.

My brother has been gone 7 years 5 months and 2 days at this writing.  Suicide.  I remember it as if it were yesterday.  I remember how I felt hearing that he was gone.  I remember how I felt for days, weeks, months - and yes, years after he died.

I was changed forever.

I know I'm not the only person on this planet to suffer great loss.  I know so many others have had so much more and sometimes worse.  I never want to feel that pain.  Never.  I can only speak of my own.  The hole in my heart that, as I said - changed me.

That pain turned me from someone who was secure in who I was - to being somehow needy.

I was always afraid of the "who's next?"  I didn't form close attachments, because they'd leave anyway and I did my best to push (or scare) away anyone I felt close to so that I was doing the leaving.

I got caught up in behaviors that were bizarre, then I got sick.  Stress was a major factor in the Lupus that was always underlying, but I never knew was there.  Stress flared the Lupus - making me so sick.  This brought on other problems and it snowballed.  My normal was abnormal.  My world was upside down in so many areas.  I'm so thankful to my husband for not only sticking it out - but kicking my ass back into shape.  I'm also thankful for this blog and those of you who read regularly.

THIS was the perfect way to process everything.  (without therapy)  The good, the bad, the ugly and the absolutely bizarre.  Many posts I've taken down - because WHAT THE HECK??  At the time, though - I needed to say whatever it was I'd said.

Most people I surrounded myself with didn't know how badly I was struggling.  I'm not even sure my husband knew the extent I was struggling.  I talked to NO ONE about how I felt.  I surrounded myself with people who didn't really care all that much.  I mean I didn't, so why should they?  I began to accept treatment toward me that I would have never previously accepted as OK.  It wasn't OK.  On the outside - I was fine.  I could hold it together in group settings (unless there was alcohol involved).  No one saw the dark and twisty that was inside of me.    It took a while for me to realize where I was with ME, what I expected of my life and what I expected of those in my life.  I finally began to see things as they were.  To realize that real friendship shouldn't be such hard work.  It should just be and to start fresh.  Forgive what needed to be forgiven and file the rest.  Not just with others, but with myself.

It was a long road.

Looking back now - and putting this out in print and reading it - I can't believe it was so long.  I can't believe how little I cared for myself or how much damage I did to myself in so many ways when all I really had to do was ask for help.

Never once did I ask anyone to talk with me about what I was going through.  I was ignoring it.  Trying to push through the pain.  Brave.

If you are here - don't be brave.

Don't let YEARS of your life go by in grieving.  TALK TO SOMEONE.  ANYONE.

Don't be like me.

I regret nothing in my life.  I look at everything as a lesson or a page/chapter in the book of me, but honestly - reading back, I wish there were more entries of joy and happiness than sadness and pain.

I want your pages to be filled with joy and happiness too.

Because what's gone is gone.  Truly.

Love with all you have and you will never have any regrets.

And if you're sad - talk about it.

Thank you for reading my blog!!

~Jenn

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12... and bullied to suicide - for being a male cheerleader

Yesterday morning my family and I were on our up at 4, out at 5 am trek to our daughter's first cheer competition of the season.

Per usual, my husband was driving.  He likes to drive and that's fine by me because I'm content to hang out and talk to the girls.
...or not since it was 5 am.  I was not nearly as caffeinated as I prefer to be at 5 am, so I spent the time in quiet browsing my Facebook and daily news feeds.

I came across an article that saddened me on several levels:

12-year-old CA boy kills self after being relentlessly bullied by classmates for being a cheerleader.

(you can click on the headline to read article)

What??  12??  Another 12-year-old??  Because of being bullied??  For being a cheerleader??  My mind first turned to my beautiful 12-year-old daughter (cheerleader) in the back seat.  Then I recalled the bullying case in Florida about a year ago where a young girl threw herself off a water tower for being bullied.  My mind began to swirl.

At twelve, my daughter is just beginning to learn who she is and who she wants to be.  Not quite a little girl, not yet a woman.  She is at the stage of her life where she's discovering herself.  I'll bet this is where this young boy was in his life as well.

I can't even wrap my brain around how sad and tormented this poor child must have been to decide that dying was his only option.

And why the torment??  Just because he was a cheerleader??  Really??

I know there are opinions on male cheerleaders.  Some dads cringe at the thought of their boys becoming cheerleaders, while others are fine with it.  I'm not here to say what's right and what's wrong.

What IS wrong is that young CHILDREN decided that because this 12-YEAR-OLD BOY was a cheerleader that he must, therefore, be gay - and they were so superior to him that they must torment him to the extent that they did.

Sorry - here's where my strong opinions come in...  As far as I'm concerned, people - that level of judgment is LEARNED behavior.  12-year-old children are mostly innocent when it comes to judgment for others being different.  They are still on the cusp of innocence & learning that others differences "make a difference."  This is where parenting comes into play.  This is where parents need teach their children kindness and acceptance of others' differences.

Twelve is a tough year.  It's the stage in a child's life where parents should maybe take tighter rein.  Especially in a world of social media where you may completely miss things.

6th Grader - Ronin Shimizu

It's no secret, I monitor my child's social media.  I monitored my older son's as well and I plan to monitor the short one's activity when her time comes.  I don't completely invade their privacy - but I keep an eye out.  I have the passwords and am very clear that I will go in whenever I want to look around to be sure all is OK.  I feel that it's my job.  I've learned from checking around that they are at the stage that the judgment and hate are beginning to surface.  Not completely - but it's starting.  For example, one of my child's friends sent her a text one day asking how she should color her poster to distinguish people of other races - black crayon for people of color and orange for Hispanics, yellow for Asians.  I found that unacceptable and addressed it with my daughter in a way she would understand.  My husband is Hispanic.  I asked my daughter flat out... "Is daddy orange?  Is your grandmother?  How about your aunts & uncles??  I am Dutch/German blonde hair, green eyes.  Why didn't I get a crayon color??"  She was upset, because again, she's still innocent - she didn't understand that what her friend was saying was wrong..  (I'm also being kind with regard to the context of the text.)  I felt it was my place to discuss this with her and tell her why it was wrong and how we shouldn't label anyone because of the way they look.  She got the message.  Acceptance.

This is exactly how I feel about the incident with this poor child.  No one had the right to color that young boy with a "pink crayon."  (not judgement, trying to make a point.)

Being a cheerleader certainly isn't a red flag to say "I'm Gay, I'm Gay."

Maybe he was gay OR maybe he liked one of the girls and wanted to be around them more.  OR maybe THIS was just his sport.  THIS was the thing he was good at.  THIS is the place he shined.

This young boy being a cheerleader doesn't make him any more gay than being a big burly auto mechanic (whatever) makes another straight.  What you do / how you look doesn't define you.
How you treat others is what defines you.

LEAD WITH KINDNESS AND ACCEPTANCE.  PERIOD!

This little boy didn't have to die and I'm so incredibly sad for his family that he died in this way.

Keep in mind that until you are sparkly clean, have no sin and lead the absolute perfect life - you don't get to judge.

When you point a finger, you can expect to have 3 pointing back at you.

This should not have been.

My deepest heartfelt condolences to the family of Ronin Shimizu.

Thank you for reading my blog!

~Jenn

 

If you have or know a teen who is struggling with suicidal thoughts - please reach out.

There is help:  http://www.sptsusa.org/parents/

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A wish for my brother the day BEFORE World Suicide Prevention Day

Today would have been my brother's 46th birthday.

I know this very specifically.  Not just because he was my brother, but because he was 2 years, 11 months and 13 days younger than me :)

It was our joke - I wasn't 3 years older.  No, no, nooooo....

2 years, 11 months and 13 days

Get it right!  :)

My favorite picture of me  & my bro - Back in the day :)
Yeah, I know... he looks thrilled :)

Now he's immortally 38 years, 11 months & 13 day's old, and that matters.  (I just picked up on that numeric irony.)

It matters, because I've kept on aging.

It matters, because I'm still here and he's not.

It matters, because his birthday - today, September 9th, is the day BEFORE World Suicide Prevention Day, September 10th.

It matters, because suicide is what took my brother from me.

It matters, because even though he and I weren't speaking at the time of his death - I will never, ever, ever have another opportunity to try to talk sense into his thick skull.  I will never have another argument with him. We will never cave in and forgive each other - then laugh like idiots and hug it out.

It matters, because the relationship we once had is gone forever.

It matters, because my girls will never remember their Uncle Eric.

It matters because my son's Godfather didn't get to see him graduate boot camp or continue in the Navy, or whatever the next important mark in his life will be.

It matters.

It may not seem like it should matter to you, but it all matters.  It should matter.

To me it matters most of all, because HE DIDN'T HAVE TO GO!

It matters, because he suffered in silence.

It matters, because all of us are left behind to wonder why.  Why now? We never knew what was going on in his head.  He didn't show any signs (this time) that anyone picked up on.  It's probably why he never took my calls.  He knew I'd know.  He knew that I'd see through his bull shit and call him out.  He knew I'd step in, step up and find a way to help him, but he just couldn't handle it anymore.

It matters, because my brother - and every other person suffering from depression or suicidal thoughts - just wanted the pain to stop.

His pain stopped.

...And then it passed on to the rest of us left behind.

Some may say I didn't care, because I was tough on him.  Yes, I was very tough on him.  He needed me to be. Sometimes he thanked me for being so tough on him.  It got him through our childhood, through the Navy and through some really difficult situations I won't discuss in this blog.

He was my brother.  He was the person who I plotted with when we were younger, the one who beat me in tickle fights and made me laugh until chocolate milk came out my nose.  He was smart and cute and funny.  He had a heart of gold. He's the one, that although struggling with depression - made it through 3 previous attempts at taking his own life and continued on to become a functioning adult, until that day.

He was my brother, and I loved him.

In my heart I always knew my brother loved & missed me.  Sometimes it's hard to say - "I'm sorry.  I was wrong."  Even if the other person says it first.

Tomorrow, September 10th is World Suicide Prevention Day.

Don't be a statistic - Suicide Victim or Suicide Survivor.

Educate yourself.  Know the signs.  Help save a life!

American Foundation for Suicide Prevention:  http://www.afsp.org/preventing-suicide
S.A.V.E. Suicide & Depression Voices of Education:  http://www.save.org

If you are someone who is struggling - It's OK to have a bad day.

It's NOT OK to have several bad days that turn into weeks, months, years. Please reach out!

In my heart, I believe that as much pain as my brother had and as much as he wanted it to stop - I don't believe he thought he'd really pull it off.

...and now it's too late.

It IS OK to reach out for help.  The taboos of the past are behind you.

Your friends, family - whom ever... Trust me, they would rather hear you say "HELP ME, PLEASE", than pick out your casket.

Of this, I'm sure.

Someone DOES love you.  Someone WILL miss you.  

Reach out...Someone WILL grab your hand.

...Even if it's a total stranger.

Life is good.  Every single second.  No one said it would be easy, just that it would be worth it.

Love you all!

Peace,

Jenn

In loving memory of my brother, Eric, on what would have been his 46th birthday.

I will always love you, Eric.  Gone, but forever in my heart!

** Often people ask, after reading if they may share my blog posts.  If you think that anything written in my post could help another, by all means - please feel free to share the LINK to this page: http://mydailyjenn-ism.blogspot.com/2014/09/a-wish-for-my-brother-day-before-world.html or you may click the share to buttons located on this page.  If you have any questions, please feel free to message me. **

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Love Your Sibs...Even if they're a pain in your BLEEP

It's true to say that no one can push your buttons or get you riled up faster than a sibling.

After all, they're the ones you've lived most of your life with.  In many instances, the first other kids you'd ever known.  Your first friends.  Your first partners in crime. The ones you hated at times, but would still die for.

They know all the buttons to push, when to push 'em & how hard.

Siblings are an important piece(s) to the puzzle that is your life.

Around this time of the year, I get really sad.
On August 27th, 2007 I lost my younger brother.
It was truly one of the worst days of my life, if not the worst.

I'm not going to get all high and mighty and speak with piety - because the worst part of my brother leaving this planet without me getting to say good bye is that we weren't speaking, and I hate that!  We hadn't spoken for several years.  Even worse than all of that - our not speaking had NOTHING to do with each other.

Outside circumstances - people - events are what came between us, what divided us.

Eric was my first sibling.  Number 2 in the pecking order, with me being the big sister, the numero uno at the top of the heap.  He and I fought - oh my gosh, how we fought.  As an adult, I'm embarrassed to say that we actually fist fought and even drew blood.  If my kids fought like we fought, I don't even know what I'd do.  Looking back, it was really awful - but we loved still each other.

He always knew that as much of a pain in the butt as he was - and believe me, he was - I was always there for him.  I was always the first person he'd call if he needed help, if he was really sad, or if he needed money.  Whatever it was - he knew he had a no questions asked policy with me.

Even though I was his older sister, I was his main care taker growing up.  He knew that, I knew that.  So when he left this planet - I was completely out of sorts.  I wasn't there to help him this time.  I didn't know he was suffering.  I didn't know he had pain.  He didn't come to me, like he had in the past.  He struggled with whatever it was - in silence, not talking to anyone.  As a result, my dear brother took his own life.

I genuinely think of my brother every single day, feeling as if I'd failed him in some way.

A friend of mine's mom went through the same situation with her sister.  Many years before I lost Eric she would tell me over and over, "Jenn, keep trying.  Just keep trying.  Call him, send him letters.  Do whatever you can - because if something happens and you're not speaking, you'll never forgive yourself."
She was right.

My point of this posting is not to draw sympathy to me - but attention to your own sibling relationships.  I know a few people - right off the top of my head who aren't speaking to their siblings.  Some issues are big, others small - others just flat out foolish pride.  It's not worth it!  Let it go!

Your siblings are the closest people to you - besides your spouse and children.  Even closer than your parents on many levels.  You grew together.  You have the same memories.  You've done all the stupid crap together & worked to get over on your parents together.  You built dreams & maybe even made them come true.

There is NOTHING on this planet worth a division between siblings.  NOTHING!

Not money, not your spouse, not a ridiculous family feud that has nothing to do with you.  NOTHING!

Work it out!  Somehow, some way.

Because in the end, when you look back on your life - the endless reel of memories that will play out in your mind WILL have your siblings in it.

How awesome is it to share that with them?

Thank you for reading my blog!

Love you guys, really!

~Jenn

PS.  Darren, I love you & I'm sending you hugs through here for now.  xxoo

(To those of you who don't know...Darren is my "baby" brother)

Rest sweetly on the wings of angels, Eric.  Love you and miss you always.  

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re-post from August 23, 2012

When the funny fades...

To tell you that I hate to dwell on this crap would be the understatement of the decade.

I try to say what I have to say, do what I have to do and then move on.

Done.

Not so much in these types of situations.  When suicide enters your life - it's very difficult to just turn your back and walk away.  Suicide settles inside of you.  It crawls into those deep dark crevices and makes itself at home, like a rodent in the eaves of your home - chewing at the wires until it creates a really dangerous situation, or at least that feeling does.  It's a feeling I can't describe, nor do I want to.  It's a feeling that I hope you don't know, if you don't already.

I know that there are so many people who read my blog who don't get it. I know my husband is one of those "don't get it" people.  That's OK.  Not everyone does.  I used to be one of those "don't get it" people until it happened to me.  Twice.

I feel INCREDIBLY LUCKY to not suffer from depression.  LUCKY. Fortunate!  Depression runs rampant in my family - two suicides, alcoholism and drug abuse.  RAMPANT.  I've been sad. I've been really, really sad and maybe a tad depressed, but I've never wanted to die. Sadness is a feeling you can get beyond.  Depression takes hold.  That is the difference between sadness and depression.

I can remember back to when I was a little girl, sitting next to my dad on the couch watching Mork & Mindy.  I can remember my dad's hearty laugh and his statements of Robin Williams being "off the wall."

Robin Williams was, without a doubt, hysterically funny.  He is, well was, one of my favorite funny people.  He was my dad's too.  They were both funny guys, though my dad was no Robin Williams, he sure thought he was.  They both left this place in the same way - by their own hand.

Tears of a clown is the best analogy I can come up with.

Depression is a bitch. Depression is one of those things that people have learned to try to hide. Try to self cure.  Drugs. Alcohol. Dangerous living. Being funny. Pick a mask, any mask. As long as the depression doesn't show and make anyone else uncomfortable, it's all good.

No it's not.

I try to express my feelings on this as often as possible, without turning away those of you who don't "get it" or don't want to hear about it.  I understand.  NO ONE wants to hear about it.  NO ONE wants to talk about the "crazy" the "sick" the "it never happens to me" the "they need shock treatment" the depressing depression.

It needs to be talked about.

That taboo?  That "elephant in the room" as someone so graciously input on my FB page - that elephant needs to be addressed.  That elephant needs to be called out and dealt with.

Until that happens, people will continue to die at their own hand.

People do NOT have to die at their own hand.

There is SO MUCH life left to live.  So much wonderful life.  Yes, there will be pain.  Yes, there will be hard times.  Don't let the lies of depression tell you that it's hopeless.  It's never hopeless.

You are never, ever alone.

If you are in depression's grasp, please let someone you love and trust know.  If you don't feel like you love or trust anyone at the moment, tell someone else.  It doesn't matter who you tell.  Tell someone. Reach out your hand.  Someone WILL grab it!

The mask can only last for so long until the pain takes over, until the funny fades.

Mr. Williams - thank you for the laughs and for a wonderful legacy of funny.

May you, and the others before you find the peace that you were unable to find in this place.

Nanu-Nanu

I wish you peace and love.

~Jenn

**  If you are struggling with Depression or Suicidal thoughts - Please DO NOT SUFFER IN SILENCE!  PLEASE reach out.  Let someone help you.  Life is good.  Really.  **

(as shared from https://www.facebook.com/DBSAlliance )

National Suicide Prevention Helpline (U.S.)
1-800-273-8255 (1-800-273-TALK)

International Directory of Suicide Hotlines
http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html
--
Need someone to listen & help without judging?

Warmline "Listening Line" Directory (U.S.)
http://www.warmline.org/

Befrienders (International)
http://www.befrienders.org/
--
Concerned about someone online?
http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org/gethelp/online.aspx

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If someone you love told you they wanted to die.... How would you handle it?

What would you do if someone you love told you they tried to die?

How would you handle it?

Would you embrace them?  Would you thank them for trusting you with something so personal? Would you tell them how happy you are that they are still here?  Would you tell them how much you love them?  How much God loves them?

These are all of the things I wish I'd done, now - looking back.

I wish I'd said and done all of those things.

I didn't though.

Instead, my heart filled with pain and I got sucked into the emotion of the suicides I've lived through, and in an almost scolding manner asked WHY they didn't call me? Why didn't they come to me, knowing I'd listen?
Why didn't they call to me?

Looking back now, even though I didn't mean it that way - it sounds a little selfish.

In my deep fear and pain in the words I'd just heard, I'd forgotten how hard it is for someone in the midst of struggle to reach out and say, "Help me, I'm drowning."

I'd forgotten...

Depression is a bitch!

NO - Depression IS Satan.

Depression will tell you that no one loves you.
Depression will tell you that you don't matter.
Depression will tell you that no one cares.
Depression will tell you that everyone is better off with out you.
Depression will tell you that it's hopeless.

Depression LIES.

I am here to tell you that you ARE loved.
I am here to tell you that you DO matter.
I am here to tell you that I, among many others, DO care.
I am here to tell you that it is NOT hopeless.

You are loved,  you matter, you are worthy,

It is NOT hopeless.

I am here to tell you that He is not done with you yet.
I am here to tell you that life without you would create a giant hole for the rest of us left behind.
I am here to tell you that your life is a great and shining beacon of joy and hope.

To my friend, please allow me to start over.

I love you.  You are special and important to me.
Thank you for coming to me and sharing something so private with me.
I am so thankful that you are still here.
I know how difficult this is for you.
I am and will always be here for you.

Depression is Satan, the master trickster.  The master liar.

Depression doesn't get to win.

God isn't done with you yet.

...And neither is anyone else.

Lots of love,
Jenn

** If you are struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, please do not suffer in silence.**

I know it's hard to reach out - but PLEASE REACH OUT!

Someone does love you.  Someone will miss you.
You DO make a difference.

Whatever pain you are suffering never goes away.

It simply passes on to those you leave behind.

You are loved.

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What moments in your life (good or bad) have changed you forever?

I posted this comment on my Facebook page to see what kind of response I'd get.

Of course I already knew what I was going to write about, but before I start... I want to pay humble homage to those of you who commented on that Facebook post.  Some of the comments I was not surprised about, but others I was in absolute awe of.  They were all fabulous.  You have amazing strength and heart.  All of you.  Thank you.  Really.  I'm honored that you shared yourselves with me.

For those of you who don't follow me on Facebook, have you really given thought to the moment(s) in your life that have changed you forever?

It's something I'm totally hung up on.

There's never just one moment, because the moments change.
Life changes.  I look back through my life, and I see the "me" that I was through different decades. I don't even know her anymore.

What defined me?  What changed me?

I can immediately say for certain, that my husband helped to shape the woman I've become over the past almost 15 years.

My childhood and early adulthood made me the very strong, independent woman that I am.  I was someone who had endured more loss than anyone should have, and someone who wasn't very trusting as a result. I totally expected people to check out on me - one way or another, so I learned to do things for myself and didn't get too attached to anyone. That attitude isn't fabulous when you're trying to have a relationship.  It has a way of blocking you from moving forward.

Eventually I learned trust.
More times than I can count, my husband has said to me,
"Relax - why do you think you need to do everything?"
It's a good reminder that it's OK.  I CAN rely on him.
Breaking down my wall and allowing him to take care of me was not an easy thing.  It was something that I really had to work at to change.
To grow.

Just when I started to believe that people don't check out on you, my brother committed suicide.

...another life changing moment.

That loss tore me down and completely changed me, robbing me of everything I finally began to trust.  It's made me hard in ways that I can't explain.  I'm not over it.  I don't know if I'll ever be completely over it. Most people can't see it, because I hide behind a smile.  Only the people really close to me can see it.  Only the people really close to me have all of me.

I really needed my husband's strength and support to get through my brother's death.

His suicide brought my wall back up and made me more distant and on guard than I had ever been.

I, once again, keep people at arms length.  I no longer give people an opportunity to get close enough to hurt me.  I'll make casual acquaintances, but that's it.  I have a few close friends, whom I know I can trust.  For certain - You hurt me, you screw me?  I'm out. I'll forgive once, maybe twice - depending on the offense, but if given a big enough red flag - you can see the flames shooting out the back of my heels as I run away.  Done, over.  As if you'd never known me.

It may not be the best way to handle things, but it's what works for me.
I get to check out first.

Changed.

I know it's hard to imagine that part of me, here through the web-o-sphere.  Here it's easy.  I can love you all.  I want to take care of you all and make sure you're all happy and lovely and safe. That part, I'm super good at.  Just don't try to take care of me.  I'm good.  I've got this.

I was changed again when my friend Ed died.
This time I felt mortality smack me in the face.  I mean, I was the sick one.  Yeah, I knew he already had one heart attack and yeah, I knew he wasn't the healthiest guy on the planet - but ya know... your friends? They aren't supposed to check out.  Yes, I know - it wasn't his choice.
It was almost as if mortality were saying to me... "Hey listen chick... just because you got over your little health issues doesn't mean you're going to live forever.  Heads up!  Oh, and appreciate what you've got."

For a while, I went on the "life's too short" for whatever the situation happened to be going on at the time. I still feel that way in most situations, but you can't both have your wall up and forgive and forget all the hurts around you.  I took stock of what was important and tried to make things better in some situations - when they weren't better at all. Then I began to think about what's worth fighting for. What's an illusion?  What's real, and what's not?  Is this situation really worth the effort, or should I just chalk it up to illusion?

Living life to its fullest doesn't mean accepting toxic relationships just because you've had them for a long period of time.  It's about being happy about the relationships that you are in.  Realizing what works in your life and what doesn't.

I've changed.  Many times.

For certain, those changes have opened my eyes to things I've chosen to not look at until I had no choice but to see.

Sometimes you need to see.  Like it or not.  Sometimes you need the really awful things to change you, so that you can move toward the really great things ahead.

At times I wish I didn't have to experience certain things that I have. Those moments - but I embrace them for what they are - my past.

A past defining moment that has set me on the path to my future.

So what moments in your life have changed you?

Thank you for reading my blog!

~Jenn

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For the "Other" Dad In My Life

Over they years that I've published Father's Day posts which I'd written about my dad, my step dad, single dads - other dads.

While my dads are the ones who help to shape who I am, I don't feel I've given enough honor to another special dad in my life.  The one who accepts this woman that my dads shaped...

My husband.

I was a single mom when I met my husband.  I didn't want a "boyfriend" and I flat out told him so. I was completely content to be a single mom.  Just me & my son.  That's how it would be.  If I was going to have a "relationship" it was going to be one I didn't have to give too much attention to. Maybe a far away one, or a see ya in a few weeks kinda thing.  I didn't think I was cut out for this whole marriage thing.  I'd given it a shot and it just didn't work out.  I'd been on my own for too long, maybe.  Too independent.  Too unwilling to depend upon someone else, because someone else always lets me down.  I've got this.  No worries.

Then, there was my husband.  Totally "OK" with just being friends. Totally "OK" with my insistence that he doesn't get to meet my son, because I wasn't interested in having him do any potential "daddy interviews."  I was hard.  I was cold.  I was very protective of my son. Until the day that he showed up at my front door, which my dad answered, toy in hand for my son.  "I don't need to meet him, Jenn isn't ready for me to, but could you give this to him?"

That's my husband.
The guy who not only taught me that it's OK to depend upon someone, but the guy who chose us as a package deal, because he wanted to.  The guy who cracked my tough exterior, when others probably would have given up.  The guy who jokes... "well, she said she didn't want a boyfriend, so she got a husband instead."

Without the love of my husband, I know life would be different.

I know my son would have grown into the man he's become, but I wouldn't have my two beautiful girls - who he thinks the sun rises and sets over.

Without the love of my husband, I wouldn't have been able to grow into the mom I've become. The mom I always wanted to be.  I wouldn't have been able to open my home to other children who need love.  I wouldn't have given birth to our daughter or adopted our littlest.  ("the short one")  I wouldn't have the life I'd always wanted, or the girls who brighten his world.

Seeing his glow around our kids makes every day worth while.

On this Father's Day, I want to honor my husband; an AMAZING father, husband, man.

Thank you, honey.

I love you!

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO ALL YOU ROCKIN' DADS OUT THERE!!

Thank you for reading my blog!

~Jenn

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