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HeidelbergVerloren
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Name: Heike
Birthday: 3/2/1981
Gender: Female
Interests: Nature - esp. waterfalls, mountains, snow, oceans, forests. Nursing - esp. newborns. People. Missions - esp. Africa. Animals.
Stories. Poetry. Drama.
Expertise: Dreaming
Occupation: RN
Industry: Medical
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
Member Since:
1/23/2005
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| The slugs here are gi-normous. (Yes, I know that's not a word, but it communicates regardless.)
I used to have some water out on our front porch for Stormy, a stray cat that has befriended me. Unfortunately, every night, a slug would appear and then another, and another, until the water bowl was filled with slugs. Not able to be cruel, even to slugs, I rejected the idea of dousing the area with salt. But it got to be too much.
Finally completely disgusted, I removed the water. The next morning, there was shiny stuff on the porch where the water used to be. I ignored it, but I began to notice it every morning. It wouldn't go away, even after days and days. The slugs had left me presents--piles and piles of slime.
And they still come visit our front porch--perhaps to remind me that they need to drink too, or perhaps just to dream of old forgotten days of bountiful water.
Doug and I are tired. Too tired. I think this must be the edge of burn-out, if not burn-out itself. I'm used to being weary all the time, I still have not regained energy since getting mono over a year ago. We need to change something in our lives, but we're not sure what. We do need to keep trudging on. And so we do, and I fill my schedule book with meetings and work.
Filling my schedule is not wise, it's obvious we need rest. But we need money too, unfortunately. We have to work. And so I feel stuck, wanting, needing to change....something...but not sure how. Even now my brain is shutting down and so I should go b/c most likely I am rambling. I should go to bed. But I don't sleep well. I haven't slept well since my mom died. Although, it's getting better, slowly my good nights are starting to outweigh the bad. My nightmares are less frequent and less intense and less painful.
I'm sorry if I sound despairing, but I don't care. This is now. This is not forever, but it is now, a very real now that I face each day as it raises its threatening face trying to frighten and overwhelm me.
I will not pretend to be okay. I despise pretense and favorite Christian answers. I am not doing well. It is no one's fault but my own. God has given the most incredible husband in the world, a comfy home, good friends...etc. But something is not right. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I think it's between me and God. I'm still angry. I'm still wondering if I can possibly trust God with the people I love. It's better Him then anyone else, but peace is far away. I know that God allowing suffering is an age-old question and there is no answer, but I have to find something that will give me peace. I know God's ways are indiscernible. I know He doesn't need to explain anything to me. I know He continually allows deep suffering, way beyond what my little heart has experienced. I grew up with the holiness and impressiveness of God being pounded into me. I even went to Bible college, for heaven's sake. And still, some kind of answer eludes me.
Maybe, in some really weird way, I need to be more like a slug, and come to an old meeting place every day, to wait, hoping for some taste of some old forgotten bounty. And hoping no one steps on me.
Hmm, I guess I did ramble. I'm tired.
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| I've discovered that the majority of people only allow someone a few months to grieve before assuming they'll be "normal" again. This is quite a contrast to the Psychology/Counseling world; they tend to agree that one usually takes at least 3 years to heal from a traumatic loss/experience. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem like anyone told the every day mix of coworkers, friends, and acquaintances this. If they do realize the length and depth of grief, often they do not know what to say, and so assume the one grieving doesn't want to be reminded of their loss. That may be true in some cases. I've found, though, the majority of people always have their deep grief in the back of their minds. Even worse are those believers who assume that Christians should not feel bad for long periods of time. After all, God is in control, and He knows what He is doing. We should trust Him and be happy. There is truth in that. But that doesn't take away the volume of loss, the sorrow of wanting to be with someone who is no longer on the earth, or the reality of staring at a cold carved stone instead of the face you long to see. Yet we assume that somehow these phrases will take away grief. What they really do is make the one grieving feel terrible, as if they shouldn't be grieving at all, and it can even stunt the healing process they must go through. Unfortunately these regular Christian phrases are widespread. If only the church, or someone godly, would teach believers about grief. Each person's loss hits them in a way that no one other then God will understand. Therefore, each one must process it in his/her own way. We must allow people to grieve as they need to, and support them in this process. Ignoring them because you don't know what to say and waiting until they feel better makes the person grieving feel even more alone. They know life will never be the same again, and yet everyone expects that after a few months, they will return to life as usual. A friend asked me the other day, "What have these few months been like for you?" I found myself in tears, because that communicated such a love and desire to understand and be with me wherever I was at. She was the only person to ask me that, and I will never forget that question. I'm sorry to write this like a dissertation, but that's the way it came out. I'm not trying to be critical, I'm not saying that I have all the answers or would necessarily know how to help someone else, I'm just venting some of my frustrations as well as sharing some of the insights I've picked up along the way. | | |
| I worked nightshift in the newborn nursery last night. It was good to be back with newborns, but it turns out it's crazy busy--so I took care of 8 babies for 8 hours. Needless to say, I was on my feet all night.
Wonderful Douglas picked me up in the morning and I headed to bed. Once beneath my comfy blankets, I felt something. I felt like bugs were crawling all over me. I could swear they were jumping about, crawling and feasting on me. Little pinpricks everywhere, and I mean EVERYWHERE. But I couldn't see ANYTHING. These things are invisible.
Am I hallucinating? My brain is exhausted, but surely it wouldn't produce imaginary bugs. I stared intently at my sheets. Nothing, but invisible somethings bit me again.
So Doug and I changed the sheets (Yes, we change our sheets regularly). That reduced the number of bites, but unfortunately did not stop them.
Doug still did not feel anything. Now I really felt like I was imagining things. So I tried to sleep. Only our neighbor in the other half of the house is replacing the kitchen floor. Thump, thump, THUMP. Bang, BANG, thump.
A few hours later, I had it with being bitten and I went downstairs to find out what these horrible things are. I searched on the Internet to no avail. Bed Bugs, Mites, Midges....Alas. My lovely bed, my safe haven, has been overtaken by invisible monsters that bite only me. Apparently they're trying to take over the house too, because they're here on the couch as well. Hey, I just killed one! He must have been the runt of the pack. It's grey and miniscule, so tiny that you can barely see the antennas. It looks just like a speck, and I mean a speck, of dirt. Well, that'll be easy to identify. GRRR. You can barely even see the horrible thing. Well, at least I'm not hallucinating. I am exhausted though and I want a place to sleep that doesn't bite me. Perhaps I'll take some sleeping pills and they will enable me to not care.
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| Doug and I have created a new blog site that we will use so our supporters can keep in touch with us: http://dougandheikeriddle.blogspot.com/
Henceforth, I am trying to post more on that site. We will still use our xanga sites for more personal entries, but I'm trying to put the more general stuff on our new blog.
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| I wonder what heaven is like?
I wonder if those we love can look down on us, if they can see how we are doing, and if they comment to the person next to them, "Hey, that's my daughter! I'm so proud of her."
But perhaps they are caught up in the wonder, the beauty, the glory of heaven and the sight of His majesty.
I don't know. Somehow the latter seems more likely. But I wish it was the first. Sometimes it helps to think that my mom can see me, that she still loves me and is proud of me. Perhaps that's just a longing inside a giant cavern of grief.
Mother's Day is approaching. I already had a healthy cry in the
Mother's Day card aisle. And I bought 2 cards, because my mother is
amazing.
I'm going to write her and put them on her grave with some
flowers. My mother loves flowers. And I'm going to sit there and talk
to her, because maybe somehow, she can hear me. And if not, maybe God
will relay my message.
 | Currently Watching
The Long Shot
By Julie Benz, Marsha Mason, Paul Le Mat, Gage Golightly, David Alexander (IV)
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