Open Thoughts-The Variable of Communication

People rarely acknowledge just how thin of ice we walk on every day. 

I don’t think it was always this way. I can’t say that I know, though. But I can say that others may not have spoken so harshly and brashly before- I feel we, as a society, have lost touch with the art of communication. 

As a Christian I know that I will always walk a thin line, on thin ice, when it comes to self expression. Mainly because I have to stop and ask myself if these words will show God’s light. It’s not easy. Many say it isn’t fair. But it is life. Because if I speak out of anger, or just speak with no thought on what my words may mean to someone else- I can cause them pain. I also have to take into consideration what others are going through before I take their words to heart. 

Now, it can be argued that this is what it takes to be a decent human being, not just a Christian. I won’t argue with that. I’m simply telling you how I got to this plane of thinking- this thought process. 

I will challenge anyone who stumbles upon this post to think before allowing words to simply flow from their mouth (or hands in today’s age). I know we’ve heard this a million times before “think before you speak”.. but I don’t think enough time is granted for that voyage. 

Let me add- I’m no saint. I speak quickly and can be just as quick to anger. This is just as much for me as it is for anyone else. 

I recently encountered a situation where someone who was “trying to help” sends me a link that discusses and compares depression to self pity. In this post there were bible verses during and at the end. Don’t get me wrong- the Lord discusses mourning, anger, pain, all emotions really, in the Bible. But I do not appreciate a link being thrown my way when there was no time spent on the actual thought process. The act was meant to be helpful and encouraging. But unfortunately, I was offended because I am diagnosed with clinical depression, PTSD, and anxiety. I am not pitying myself. I do not choose this for myself. I actively have to work every moment to see things in a different light. 

I could have lashed out (am I lashing out right now..?) and told this person all of this. But I chose not to respond for two reasons:  1. Unless you have it- or love someone who has it, you won’t understand; and 2. What is this person going through? A LOT. This persons world has been turned upside down and everything they knew to be true turned out to be a lie. 

I learned that when you are going through what reason 2 is going through- there isn’t much reason coming and going. It’s simply survival and a desperate plea for any emotion that isn’t pain. “The best way to help yourself is to help others” and OF COURSE there is a clause or footnote on this. The person was trying to be helpful and unintentionally offended me. I’ll survive LOL. 

Look, I can’t actually tell what the art to communication is. Because it is different for each person you encounter. The current state of said person is the variable. Culture… People are the variable. Your own state of mind is the variable. BUT I truly believe if we stopped and thought about the impact of our words, at least attempted to educate ourselves on these variables, then two things will happen 1. Thoughtful communication will occur and 2. A lot less will be said. (Sometimes it isn’t worth it- the effort, the most likely outcomes, etc.) And of course there are times we can work through every word of our sentence, every variable we know of and still offend someone. It’s ok to offend someone, it’s going to happen. It is a constant of life, a staple. What I hope happens after that though, is constructive communication. 

I’m no activist for saying less. I’m an activist for saying less that means more. Or write a book that means everything. Just think out what you have to say before you say it. Regret leaves a nasty taste in the mouth. You can’t unring a bell. And unfortunately what may take 5 seconds to say, can take 5 years to repair. 

Words are free… it’s how you use them that may cost you. 

No New News

Fake news bullshitGobble it up 

All ‘new’ shit

But this ain’t new shit. 

See this news shit is just like that old shit

We just have it fed to us intravenously 

We have all this knowledge at our fingertips and we treat the platform like a land fill

Our inhumanity 

Our pseudo socialism 

Be the socialite, snap a picture, edit edit edit, show the world. Aren’t you having fun?

Please can I have some more

I’m already drowning 

Drowning in the things that bother us

The things that keep us up at night 

Please may I have some more

Knowledge is ‘power’

But they disable us

Force feed the new information, news inflammation, lets talk about inflation

They feed on our fear and turn us on each other

It’s all too big to conquer

Brain over load

Circuit misfire 

What’s this new fire?

Oh we’re just making the same mistakes we did 75 years ago. 

United we stand, or divided we fall.

Fear of forsaken forevers 

Unless you’ve heard that door slam and the emptiness that follows, you’ll never understand. You’ll never understand the fear.

But I promise to love you every day, in every way. 

Yes, the terrors of abandonment, forsaken forevers, wake me up at night. 

Maybe I’ll always fear. 

Maybe that’s not so bad, really. 

I’ll always savor you like the rarity you are. The once in a lifetime person you are. 

The way your chest rises and falls when you sleep. How your eyes sparkle when you speak. How your eyes crinkle, your dimples show when you laugh. How my soul makes sense and I feel at home in your laughter, amidst the chaos. 

The way your calloused hands caress my face, as soft as a whisper. 

The way you hold me when my world is falling apart. 

Yes, maybe one day I will fail you. Maybe some apocalyptic hellish nightmare of a day that door would slam and only silence will follow suit with the empty. 

But maybe, just maybe, I will acknowledge my fears. Instead of drowning me, drowning our love, they will shine light into the darkness of the unknown. 

No matter what, I will always thank you, I will always cherish you, I will always choose you. I will always love you. YOU you, the real you. The messy you. The you that was broken, too, when you chose to let me in. The one who shares fears, too. 

 I will thank you for every normal, boring day. And I will always be thankful for the irrational anger that is greeted with an exasperated eye roll and nothing more. 

And I will always thank you for every time you walked me back off a ledge. For every time you brought me back home from far away worlds. Every hypothetical “what if” you talk me through, every heartbreak you hold me through. Every time you tell me I am more than enough. Every time you fight my demons off when I am too tired to do so. Every time you love me, when I do not love myself. 

And every time I open my eyes, I will love you. I will choose you. 

I promise. 

Overflowing, overwhelmed 

Weight on shoulders, depress, oppress, suppress

Anxiety in laughter, wrapped around my throat – it won today. It successfully overwhelmed its vessel. 

My knees hit the ground like an ultimatum 

Lists overwhelming my mind, my ability

Failures singing like the birds in the trees, never silenced 

Fear like shackles on my wrists and ankles 

Anxiety fogging my mind, overwhelming my senses. 

The debris and destruction surrounding me. It is a fact, I’m on the ground. 

The smoke rising like protestations

Muscles straining like it’s a physical fight, I stand 

One foot in front of the other

Sun peaks through the dust and smoke, I depend on you

For now, I fear, I fail, I fall, and falter. But every fight has a victor and victim. 

I never liked the taste of being a victim. 

My knees may shake, but I will always get back up. 

I have too much depending on me to give up. 

If Mirrors Could Talk

What if mirrors could tell the stories of what they’ve seen? 

Would they tell us to change toothpaste? Or that it’s long past time to change that toothbrush head?

Would they tell us that our hair looks fine to the left or right and that that one piece will just never sit right?

Would they tell us that yes we HAVE had too much to drink? And scream that we CANNOT drive?

Would they tell us that even though we don’t recognize ourselves that they do?

Would they call us out for not being able to look ourselves in the eyes?

Would the tell of the self hatred screamed at them?

Would they tell us that they’ve seen us cry, and we deserve better than we accept for ourselves?

Would they tell us that the mountains we have been carrying were only meant to be climbed?

If mirrors could talk would they tell stories of the years gone by? Would they tell us about how we should be appreciative of those wrinkles, scars, and bags? 

Would they tell us that “The mirror is not you. The mirror is you looking at yourself”?

“You’re stressing me out”

I can’t even fathom how many times this has been said to me… When did society evolve into one where any emotion other than happy-go-lucky or lust were considered distasteful?

I’m sorry if my sadness stresses you out. I’m sorry if I’m killing your vibe…….. actually no, no I’m not. Go screw yourself. Why do you feel the need to force happiness in everyone all the time? Do I remind you of your repressed feelings? Does seeing me like this hit too close to home for you?

Depression as deep and vast as the seas storms. 

The moment I feel despair creeping up onto me like an unwanted, uninvited, house guest in my head I shut down. I go into task mode trying to ignore the whispers that turn into tortured screams in my head. 

Brush hair. Brush teeth. Take off clothes. Step into shower. Turn knob. Soap on sponge. Lather. Bubbles. Wash feet.  All the while dreading the despair crawling up my back and onto the nape of my neck. Feels like a guillotine. Hollow, abdicated from responsibilities that ensure survival. 

– You upset and stress every person you interact with. Everything you touch turns to shit. Look, now you’re failing at the things that only you could do well. You literally cannot do anything right. You’re failing. YOU ARE A FAILURE. You let down anyone who loves you. They deserve better. You can’t go a single day without doing something wrong. Why would anyone want to stay around you? Hell, even your own father left.  Your friends don’t even really like you. You are an irritant to them. You are a shitty friend, how can it even be possible to be this bad at being a friend? They will easily replace you if they haven’t already. They deserve better. You bring no value to anything or anyone. STOP TALKING YOU ONLY MAKE IT WORSE WHEN YOU TALK. You aren’t the only one who is going through stuff, stop victimizing yourself. Why do you even bother trying? You’ll fail. You’re weak. –

Wash face. Wash hair, paying close attention to each individual strand… pretend you don’t hear it, don’t feel it. Pretend you don’t feel like you suddenly have a black hole within you. 

It’ll pass. 

It’s not true. None of it is true. 

It’ll pass. 

It’ll pass. 

Are you stressed out now? 

Pills and Faith

“And the doctors give the pills but the pills don’t have the will to take pain out the brain, they just make the brain insane”

I’m on this journey of coming off antidepressants, anti anxiety, and “pay attention” pills. 

Look at that sentence. I was on a pill to function for every aspect. I became a machine. I was effective and I executed tasks. 

And I woke up one day and realized I had no idea how to be me. Whatever that meant. I had (have) no idea what motivates me to keep going, and I have no idea how to look what breaks me in the eyes. 

I talk to the Lord about it… it feels like I’m talking to him every second of the day about it. It’s messed me up pretty bad… but that’s ok. 

I’ve always told others it’s OK to not be ok. Don’t stay there. Stay the night if you gotta but don’t set up camp. 

But I never even looked at the fact that I’ve ignored mine. Lord tells us that he will wipe our tears away. He never said there wouldn’t be tears. 

Here I am waking up for the past three days crying. Don’t ask me why cause I don’t know. I don’t. I’ll laugh in between sobs because there’s no reason, no prompt. 

Who is this person? I don’t show emotion like this. I’m always strong. I never want to put my pain for others to bear. That’s my burden alone. 

And yet… I’m crying. I’m sobbing. My face is wet. The tears stream down my neck to my chest. 

Doesn’t make sense. 

And my husband that I know, I KNOW, God sent into my life. This beautiful man. If you never met him, I’ll tell you he isn’t an emotional one. He has a huge heart, but what is, just is. He doesn’t let it weigh him down. 

This beautiful man looks at me last night and tells me to just cry. It’s ok. Maybe my medicine wouldn’t let me cry over the months when I needed to. And maybe these are those tears coming out now. Perhaps with interest. 

I’ll tell you I cried even harder. Cried till a headache was more important than my heartache. 

God knows what’s in our hearts. And maybe he’s telling me to stop running and just be still. 

When you can’t find an answer to a problem, perhaps it’s not a problem to be solved, but rather a truth to be accepted. 

It ain’t about how hard you hit… it’s about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. About how much you can take and keep moving forward. 

The Lord is my solace, my home, my safe place. Without him I am nothing. He has made the lame walk, the broken whole, and He alone is who I follow. 

I will not depend upon a capsule of concoctions to be my sanity. I know right now the Lord is telling me to be still, there’s something he needs me to see through these tears. 


Do you ever just
stare at the wall
almost like it has all the answers
but you have no expectations
It’s not really intriguing
But it brings you silence in your head
You think about camping when you were younger
throwing wet rocks into the lake
side stepping sharp rocks, like side stepping your jagged heart now
We use to stare at fires, now we just stare at walls.

There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home….

You know…. feeling empty is considered a blessing sometimes…and sometimes it’s only a blockade against our own feelings that we need to deal with. While I could pray that I felt nothing, away from this grief and anger…. But that would really be numbness, right? Numbness wears off like Novocain. You’re still left with damage and wounds after it’s gone.

Emptiness still leaves an ache in your chest…. Maybe that really why the tin man wanted a heart, he was empty. He longed for any and all feelings… Think about that for a moment. It’s not like the tin man had never been around those with hearts. He knew what it meant and he sought it out with diligence.

Coming to this realization really makes me feel more like the Lion. A coward.

Life will spin you around like a tornado, never really able to get your feet on the ground. Suddenly you’re confused on where you are and how these things came to be. And while there is no place like home, sometimes that tornado destroys home.

It’s okay to hurt, to rage, to mourn. We are all just wandering around trying to find a yellow brick road. We have brains in our heads, hearts in our chest, and courage in our spirit… the bravery to fight the good fight. Sometimes if we are really lucky, we get a little dog, too. All we have to do is tap into ourselves and find it within. And make it home to who we are really meant to be.

An Open Letter to the “Father” who walked out of my life

In the words of Queen Beyonce herself:

You’re everything I thought you never were
And nothing like I thought you could’ve been
But still you live inside of me
So tell me, how is that?
You’re the only one I wish I could forget
The only one I love to not forgive
And though you break my heart
You’re the only one
And though there are times when I hate you ’cause I can’t erase
The times that you hurt me and put tears on my face
And even now while I hate you, it pains me to say
I know I’ll be there at the end of the day
I don’t wanna be without you, babe
I don’t want a broken heart
Don’t wanna take a breath without you, babe
I don’t want to play that part
I know that I love you, but let me just say
I don’t wanna love you in no kind of way, no, no
I don’t want a broken heart
And I don’t want to play the broken-hearted girl
No, no, no broken-hearted girl
I’m no broken-hearted girl
There’s something that I feel I need to say
But up till now I’ve always been afraid
That you would never come around
And still I wanna put this out
You say you got the most respect for me
But sometimes I feel your not deserving of me
And still you’re in my heart
But you’re the only one
And, yes, there are times when I hate you, but I don’t complain
‘Cause I’ve been afraid that you would walk away
But I’ll have to stop it there, because he did. He walked straight out of that proverbial door without a glance back to his daughters. And man let me tell you…. I wish this could have been like in the movies – young girl watches her daddy in the rain, pack his belongings into a yellow taxi.
We weren’t so lucky. No, I got to experience my entire relationship with you boiled down to two stages: Absent, or Present (for however many months, no consistency in communication) but semi around, destructive and me just trying to earn your love.
I remember these so clearly: Maybe he’ll stop drinking if he just loved me, or if I did ___. Maybe he won’t get so angry if I ___. Maybe he’ll stop throwing things around if I ___. Maybe, just maybe he’ll call this month. Maybe if I go play nice with his new family (multiply this by 4) I’ll get to spend time with my dad.
Maybe he won’t destroy this marriage. Maybe he won’t be destructive to himself and those who love him. Maybe he’ll really stay on his medicine this time and won’t drink (this last one, man that’s the one that got me this time).
Even now I can’t tell you why I seeked your attention and affection so vehemently. I can be thankful that this destructive and co dependent relationship has met its end. Doesn’t mean you didn’t leave me in pieces on the ground. But don’t you dare pretend you did this for my well-being. You aren’t that selfless. No, see, when you told me (via text message, mind you) that you no longer wanted anything to do with me on that horrible day (November 12, 2016 in case you forgot), you did it out of spite, to hurt me, and yeah, you succeeded. I was totally blindsided. Out of ALL the ways you’ve hurt me over my lifespan, I never predicted this one. Thought it was too low, even for you. And with 4 months before my wedding!
I wish I could say I stole your mothers jewels or something… at least then I would have understood.
No, I (and my sister) sat in the hospital worried about your mother, our me-me. Whilst planning a funeral for another grandparent.
You were nasty and yelled at us that night, I wrote it off as fear for your mother. You threatened us, holding your relationship with us over our heads if we didn’t show up to the hospital…. as if we wouldn’t have shown up… Of course we showed up, not because of your threats or yelling or pure uncontrolled anger, we showed up because that’s our grandmother and we love her. She’s family. And there is no breaking of that bond. We aren’t as heartless as you paint(ed) us to be. The fact you wouldn’t hug me, and anytime you looked at us… it was as if you hated us. I needed my father, I was scared too. But you shoved us away and treated us as if we had somehow been the reason she was in the hospital. You made me physically sick, I mean literally.
Two days later I receive a text from you.. and to cut it short I shared my perspective, that you hurt me. You shared your desire to have nothing to with me any longer. A TEXT message… that’s what your youngest child got. You didn’t even bother reaching out to your eldest daughter…
I hurt because I FOUGHT for so many years to keep some relationship with you, after all the drunk driving, the physical and mental abuse… and suddenly, just one day out of the blue, you throw me away like a cigarette butt. I tried for so many years to just make you love me. Choose me. BEGGED you to stop destroying yourself, your new lives, me… It never was enough… I guess it never would have been enough.
You and I both know that what you are doing to your wife isn’t right, it isn’t healthy… and I am terrified for her. I’m terrified that you could destroy a relationship between her and her daughter. She ignores how you act, how you treat her because she loves you… and you destroy her and her belongings in return (and lie about it). Well, daddio, what is done in the dark will be brought to the light. The Lord promises us that. I hope you do better, she deserves better.
I hate that we can’t have a healthy relationship and that I couldn’t make you love me. I hate that my babies will never meet my biological father, never see your good side (I mean, you really do have a GREAT good side). But I will NEVER let you hurt them the way you hurt my mother, my sister, myself…the list goes on. No, they will never feel that heartache that leaves craters in your soul.
That’s it… that is all I’ve got. No plot twist. No happy ending here. Just words that were threatening to choke the life out of me if I didn’t get them on paper and in the open. For everyone to see my deepest fear unfolded before my eyes and my chest ripped open…
I doubt you’ll ever read this letter…
I, nor my husband, will ever destroy our children the way you did yours.
With that said… I’ll heal.
You do not win. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.
The end.
Song during my writing:
Tin Man – Miranda Lambert.