I Hate Cars

My husband and I had a revelation the other night while putting down the highway in our '93 Ford Escort: Maybe God wants us to be Amish.

Think of it. Imagine the ease of driving. Sure, little kids could outrace you on their decked-out Huffy bikes (possibly with training wheels), but you'd never have to pay for gas, you'd never have to let your car run for ten minutes before driving it in cold weather because a horse is always "on," and Mr. Ed doesn't have to pass inspection once a year.

Less than two hours from now, I will be the proud owner of an extremely used new car. Again. Cars and toilet paper - we go through them at the same speed. A few years ago, a guy named Dave Ramsey (look him up) told us we needed to buy "beater" cars instead of making payments on new ones. Well, he didn't tell us this personally. It was in his workbook and I'm pretty sure he talked about it on his show. Either way, we could just sense he was speaking directly to us.

And that was OK with us because we were already buying them. We have owned one brand new car in our ten-year marriage and I totaled it less than a year into holy matrimony. Apparently, I went temporarily color blind at the very worst moment, sped through a red light, and a minivan slammed into me at 50 miles per hour. That was the last new car we had. That was 2001.

The beater car thing is great in theory. I don't like making payments on anything, and things like credit cards scare me. The idea is to buy a car that is used, that you can buy outright. The idea is to buy a used car that doesn't suck. But I'm here to tell you...there's no way you can really tell. You don't know what you're going to get. People lie. And even when they're honest, sometimes there is no way to know what kind of mood a car is going to be in once it lands in the care of new owners.

As one who has stood alongside many a roadside, kicking and yelling at a dead car, this truth haunts me. And tonight I'm going to go pay a nice chunk of money on something with less predictability than a southern Pennsylvania snowstorm. God help me. God help all of us.

Dear Toyota, this is your new mother speaking. Please live. OK? Just please LIVE. I promise to put oil in you every 3,000 miles if you promise not to die. You're running great right now. Don't pull one over on me in a day or a week. Don't make me kick you or throw things at you, because those who have gone before you can attest to the fact that I CAN and I WILL. So, just to reiterate, please live. Live or suffer harsh consequences in front of thousands of people on the highway.


Love,
Mother Pin It

Broken Believers: Upgrading to Joy

My new blog post is up at Broken Believers, Upgrading to Joy. Check it out. More blogging here later. Pin It

New Post at Broken Believers

I'm running a little behind, but my weekly post at Broken Believers is up. Pin It

Other "Do's" I've Rocked in the Past

Yesterday was not the first time I had a mullet.
Sadly, my mother paid for me to have one in the 6th grade.

In my teen years, I earned the nickname "Big Ol' Fro" because of this bush on my head.

I later transitioned into a wannabe Pearl Jam groupie.

In 2005 I got my hair cut right before going on national television to promote my book. It didn't work out so well. It became known as my "lesbian haircut."

My hair is naturally curly and when it's long, I can't stand drying and straightening it, so I just let the kinks fly.

Pin It

The Story of One Girl's Hair

What do you do when you're home alone, bored, and your husband has your car?
You cut your own hair, that's what you do! That's exactly what I did yesterday. I'm not sure what possessed me to do this other than not wanting to pay somebody else to do what I could do myself. That's how I roll. I may write for a "fine living" magazine, but I'm as practical as practical gets. And cheap, too.

The life of a struggling writer isn't very romantic, you see. In fact, it sort of sucks - especially when you're waiting for checks to arrive in the mail. Money is pretty tight sometimes, but I'll be darned if I'm going to let it keep me from getting something I really want...something like a haircut.

I did a little research online about how to cut your own hair. It sounded simple enough. You get your hair wet, comb it all forward, and measure it with your fingers as you snip away. Sweet! I can totally do this!!

I always figure, hey, it's just hair. It grows back. It can be corrected. And, if not, you can just shave your head. I wasn't too worried. There's nothing a little gel and a good sense of humor can't fix.

So I went to it. I started hacking away in the shower. I didn't want to chop it all off, just hack off an inch or so. When I finished, I rinsed my head and felt my head with my fingers. It didn't feel any different. It seemed to be about the same length. Then I realized what I had done...

Oh snap!! I gave myself a mullet! A sweet, sweeeeeeeeeeeet mullet. My hair said "sophistication" in the front and "point me to the keg!" in the back. I laughed my butt off as I looked in the mirror. I wish I'd taken a picture. But, alas, the mullet had to go. I dried my hair, straightened it, and did about 3 more rounds of snipping. This is the result.

My 1-inch trim turned into about 4 inches. Oh well. I like it better short anyway. Do I rock or what?!? It's all even... at least from what I can tell. I made my husband examine me thoroughly like he was searching for lice and he confirms that it is, indeed, straight.

Go me. And that's my story. Pin It

Latest Blog at BrokenBelievers.com

My weekly blog is up at BrokenBelievers.com. This week I talk about acting on fact instead of feelings. Pin It

So...This is What Morning Looks Like

I got up very early today, which is rare for me. I'm not a morning person and I avoid early mornings as much as possible. When you work from home you can pull stuff like that off. I got up crazy early today because I missed a Fed-Ex delivery yesterday which contained my husband's new cell phone. Hubby made me promise to get up early and hang out where I could hear someone knocking on the door. I kept my promise but I can't help but think Fed-Ex Guy is going to show up when I'm perched atop of the porcelain throne or taking a shower. When I do get up early, I always tell myself I'm going to hit my book project hard, but I usually wind up sitting here in a near coma until at least 10 a.m.

I made breakfast smoothies this morning. It didn't take a lot of energy - I opened the bag of Yoplait frozen smoothie contents, threw it in the blender with a cup of milk and hit "high"... all the while checking out the window to make sure Fed-Ex Guy wasn't banging on the door while the blender whirred like a jackhammer. (Note to self: defrost Yoplait frozen smoothie contents for a few minutes before blending.)

I'm still working on this book proposal. Have I mentioned I hate book proposals? I hate book proposals. I hate anything administrative in nature. And math. I really, really hate math. The down side of being creative is that anything that ISN'T creative feels like a nightmare. There is something about the phrase "annotated table of contents" that stirs up emotions in me not unlike the emotions I used to experience in algebra class. I've lit a fire under my own butt because you never know - somebody else might be having the same idea right now and, frankly, I'd like to beat them to the punch.

So, good morning, Wednesday. It's ON. It's on like DONKEY KONG. Pin It

Emotional Sobriety and the Fear of Losing It

I spent the first part of 2010 in a pretty deep depression. Actually, it was a really strange kind of depression, as it only seemed to occur at night. I felt incredibly sad, anxious, and I fought insomnia for months. I try not to blame everything on Bipolar Disorder, but somehow it always comes down to that, so after doing everything else I could possibly think of, I finally saw the doctor. He changed my antidepressant and within two weeks, I was feeling back to normal... well, my version of normal.

Actually, a very funny thing began to happen. I became stable. Truly stable for the first time in my adult life. I don't mean financially or professionally, but emotionally. The crushing depressions all but went away, as did my anxiety, insecurities, and the feeling that if someone so much as tapped me on the shoulder, I would plunge into a mental health crisis. Those were the things I worked very hard at hiding from most of the world, as well as my family. Sometimes it showed even when I tried to cover it up, I'm sure. But there were only a few people who knew the depth of what I went through. They were the ones receiving the fed-up, sometimes desperate phone calls and emails.

My life became so stable that I didn't even realize it. I was so used to feeling like I was an inch from losing it all that I never noticed how downright sane everything was. A dear friend/co-worker of mine told me how remarkable, drastic, and noticeable the change had been, and that was honestly the first time I had ever stopped to evaluate the true state of things, and realized how smooth the road had become. Indeed, my friendships had deepened and become more give-and-take (versus me sucking the energy out of people), I was able to focus on new writing projects, and I found that some of my old stumbling blocks (addictions?) no longer had me trapped.

I'm a little embarrassed to share this part, but I will. I think one thing that really helped me was leaving the 9-5 daily grind. I started working from home solely as a writer and while I'm not exactly rolling in the dough, there is no doubt it has changed my outlook on life. It's not that I'm lazy (it's that I just don't care - only kidding), but with sleep being such a hardship for me, and since not enough sleep makes me super bipolar, working from home and making my own schedule has been a huge health improvement. Plus, doing something you actually enjoy for a living helps!!

I have been enjoying what I like to call "emotional sobriety" and it's so amazing to feel like a whole human being. I love spending time with friends and not feeling like I'm a downer. I love that this normalcy has been lengthy enough that it's noticeable and encouraging to the people who have loved me and stood by me through everything. Even my relationship with God has improved. When you stay in bed all day because you're too depressed to move, it makes it kind of hard to have quality one-on-one time with Him, but now I'm able to do that. (Though I'm learning that these are the types of things we have to force ourselves to do whether we "feel" like it or not.) It's amazing and liberating! But I have to admit... I am fighting fear.

When people tell me they don't "believe" in mental illness, I always think, wow, try it for a few weeks and let me know if you still think it's all pretend! The truth is, it's hell. It's a feeling of being constantly out of control. Anyone who has experienced any kind of freedom from it knows that the last thing you would ever want is for a relapse to occur. Yet, the very nature of Bipolar Disorder means that the other shoe could very well fall, and the idea of that freaks me out. I've been ASSURED by my own doctor that as long as I do the things I need to do (getting proper sleep, taking my meds, etc.) that I can remain stable. I take great comfort in that, but sometimes I still worry.

Yesterday was a rough day. I hadn't slept very well the night before because of a lovely post-nasal drip and I felt down and out all day. 2 Corinthians 10:5 says:

We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.

I've written about this verse so many times because I am constantly having to follow its instructions. I don't know about you, but when I get down about one thing, ten other depressing things come to mind. That's what happened to me yesterday and I had to practice 2 Corinthians 10:5 because I was dwelling on every little annoyance in my life. I was struck with a sense of panic and I wondered if my bad day was becoming a bad bipolar cycle.

Fortunately, it was not the start of a cycle. A good night's sleep made the following day much better and I was able to see things more clearly. I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked God that the new, stable me was still intact.

Someone once said that "normal" is only a setting on your dryer, but I'm pretty sure whoever said that never suffered from mental illness. Maybe there is no true definition of "normal" but in my darkest days, I have often found myself saying, "Normal is anything but this."

And when you've experienced it for yourself, the thought of going back to the way things were is terrifying and gut-wrenching. Pin It

Broken Believers

Just wanted to let you know I'll be guest blogging at BrokenBelievers.com every Monday now. BB is a blog dedicated to serving Christians with mental health issues, and I'm excited about writing there.
Check out my first post here. Pin It

Year in Review

I celebrated 10 years of marriage to the love of my life.

My nephew was born in March.

Went to war with the in-laws.

My mom broke her tailbone and had a cancer scare. (All clear.)

One of my closest friends dumped her husband, dumped her faith, and turned into an alcoholic.

Another friend had another problem that was deep and complex and frightening beyond what any of us could help him with.

Our best friends moved away.

Our best friends had a baby.

Our best friends split up.

Both siblings bought new homes.

'Twas a roller coaster year of apartment living, complete with people peeing in the parking lot, guns, and drugs.

The apartment complex got peaceful. (Knock on wood.)

I ditched my day job to write from home.

Hubby started college.

A year passed since my cousin's death due to ALS.

My cousin's wife got remarried.

I found the right meds and got "emotionally stable."

I got my own column.

My husband found his biological father and discovered he has two sisters.

My brother-in-law spent the year being very sick... and then abandoned his whole family.

I started painting and instantly fell in love with it.

I designed a t-shirt for Amy Grant, to be sold on her 2 Friends tour with Michael W. Smith this spring.

I started working on a new book project. Seriously, this time. Pin It