how to jingle all the way…and get other things done…

img_4065I am like the queen bee of starting things and not finishing them…so this kitchen towel totally cracked me up. It’s not that I’m a half-ass jingler. When I jingle – I jingle with all my heart – for the moment that is. Then something happens (attention shifts or I get overwhelmed) and I forget that jingling was ever important to me in the first place! My sparkly bells  just sit there, unjingled, and lonely.

Now clearly I’m not just talking about jingling bells. In fact, the last time I really put effort into jingling bells was in high school show choir. I’m talking about all the other projects and things I pour my energy into like a gargantuan waterfall, only to quickly leave behind a lake of pieces unfinished and undone.

So how does an adult that struggles with ADD sustain a nice full ass jingle throughout the completion of a song? I am still in the process of learning that…but here is what I have discovered so far.

  1. Focus the attention waterfall: Those of us with ADD often have multiple waterfalls flowing in our head. We are constantly inundated with information and easily sucked into things that are unproductive. I can spend HOURS on Facebook doing absolutely nothing if I don’t choose to harness up my waterfall – meaning set a period of time and focus on a productive task. Jingle your bells with a full ass jingle for so many minutes a day.
  2. Let the waterfall move on: Sometimes we get so focused on working one set of bells, and can have difficulty shifting focus, that we neglect other sets of bells. So set your time period, but don’t overspend time doing one thing. It will still be there tomorrow, your brain will be refreshed, and there are other things around you that are important.
  3. Jingle in the direction of your values: If you don’t value it, don’t spend time on it. Facebook is cool, but it doesn’t move me towards my values. I am way better off working on something that involves committed action towards things that are really important. Don’t know what you value? Take a second to think about it and figure it out.
  4. You are capable of and worth a good jingle: If you have a habit of leaving things undone, starting and not finishing, or feeling like you constantly fail…it’s easy for interest to peak with a great idea only to be shot down by our own negativity. Some jingles will work out and others won’t. But that’s not because you are incapable or a failure. You deserve to give yourself time to work on that jingle. Sometimes the best ideas come out of those who process a bit differently. Shut the negative committee down and jingle till they move out the way!

I hope those things are helpful for you. I’m certainly – and will likely always be – in the process of figuring out what’s helpful for me. And process is a beautiful thing. It means growth. So get out there and jingle sister…the world is waiting to dance to the tune only you can provide.

don’t be a sloppy lovahhhhhhh……

love

I love me some Saturday Night Live. Especially the old stuff. One of my favs (I know it is so inappropriate but I can’t help myself) is Will Ferrel and Rachel Dratch playing the Professors Roger and Virginia Klarvin. They are so over the top with their hilarious PDA’s. I almost pee my pants every time I watch. Here’s a link…but warning…like seriously inappropriate adult humor…don’t say I didn’t warn you!

I feel weird even trying to bring an SNL skit like this and Jesus into the same blog post, but hey, now that I know I officially have ADD – I feel a little more freedom to do weird crap. So how did I draw a connection between the two? These three words that popped into my mind last night…

Don’t be a sloppy lovahhhh……

Jesus? SNL? A combo of both? I’m not really sure…but Jesus took it and taught me something.

I like to love people. Not in a weird ewwwwwwwww kind of way. Not that at all. What I mean is…I like to care for people. I crave doing it. God put a little bug in my heart that desperately wants to make sure others know they are okay. Even if they did the unthinkable…or experienced someone else doing the unthinkable…we learn, we grow, and we move on. I like to help people figure that out.

But at times…I like it a little too much. The consequence? I provide awesome lip service with little follow through. And I know it’s not just me, I see other lovahs struggle with the same thing.

So what is Jesus teaching me? That the best lovahs need good boundaries. Otherwise their awesome loving skills never get a chance to be properly used. The love-ah feels unfulfilled and like a failure and the love-ee feels like they are were misguided and perhaps not good enough. (and yes I just made up those terms)

But how on earth do we go about setting those boundaries?

1. Recognize it may go against everything that is within you. Your heart and mind will long to say yes, but your physical limitations sometimes have to scream NO…even if it feels awful and like you are letting people down.

2. Recognize there are other awesome lovahs and network with them! Despite your mad loving skills, you are not the only one who loves to love and care for people. If your love plate is full…pass on the next portion to someone else who can love well!

3. Have someone hold you accountable to your boundaries. Why? Because lovahs love to love and we are not good at keeping them!

4. Relish in the awesomeness of being able to fully invest in those God lets you love…and love the crap out of them. Love them like Jesus. Love them beyond what they deserve. And do it well because you of all people are not a sloppy lovah!

Looking back on my life the people who made the biggest difference were not famous. They didn’t write books, or flash up on the TV screen, or make millions of dollars. They were regular people who chose to love God and love people. They were and are amazing lovahs. And they stay that way and sustain their love because they also recognize their boundaries and limitations. Brene Brown does an awesome job of explaining this in this video. Worth the watch if you have time. But either way, remember this…

God did not call you to save the world. He had a son named Jesus who already did that. Love those whom He entrusts you to love. Let others love those whom He entrusts them to love. Making the choice to set boundaries in a love opportunity may just be the best thing that ever happened to them because it opens the door for the right person for that season to step in. And above all know that Jesus – the ultimate lovah – has got this. He’s got them. And He’s got you. Do your best. Love with your whole heart and leave the rest up to Him. He’s a good good father. The very best.

hypersensitivity, fear of failure, cocktail waitressing, and the making of a therapist…

ripped

Hypersensitivity to failure, disapproval, and criticism. I never knew this was a “thing” until I started researching emotions and ADHD. ADDitude magazine describes it like this…

“The emotional response to failure is catastrophic for those with the condition. Perceived criticism and withdrawal of love and respect is just as devastating as the real thing. The term “dysphoria” means “difficult to bear,” and most people with ADHD report that they “can hardly stand it.”  ADHDers are not wimps; disapproval hurts them much more than it hurts neurotypical people.”

I always thought this was something to hide…some sort of character flaw. But no matter how hard I fought, I just couldn’t get past it.

Over the years this hypersensitivity has come at a great cost. For me…it often led to lies.

I hated lying, but I was terrified of disapproval.

As a CPS worker fresh out of college with a toddler and a baby, I failed miserably. I couldn’t keep up with my files, I was emotionally overwhelmed, and would say that I got things done that I hand’t which eventually led to me looking irresponsible and negligent.

Was I?

It was never my intention to hurt or disappoint anyone, but while my heart was in the right place…I couldn’t get my brain to follow.

This has been the story of my life. A huge heart wanting to do and be everything to everyone. Passion that bleeds endlessly but never has the stamina or skills to implement.

So I left CPS quickly with my tail between my legs. At that time I was accepted into the Master’s Program in Counseling, but that was not all…

Cue embarrassing story…

I decided to cocktail waitress and bartend at night to make sure I could pay the bills. I didn’t even know how to make a margarita or the names of any other drink…but that’s what an impulsive spirit running from her hypersensitivity to failure and criticism will do to survive. Just about anything.

I went to grad school and I was successful. Looking back I have no idea how. It must have been the grace of God. There is no other way. Apparently He knew someday my particular take on life and set of experiences would be beneficial to the children who grace my office. To those sweet little souls with unspeakable traumas and behaviors that everyone else misunderstands and sees as ugly. My own mistakes have given me the perspective to see past their messiness into their hearts. Because God did the same for my own.

I feel their pain. I know what it’s like to come undone. To feel like you can’t quite harness up your brain so you can use it. It’s my honor to help them figure out how to take what they have – though it may be little – and rock it.

And I sit here tonight with my intellectually disabled son napping by my side, my ADD daughter (who didn’t fall even a centimeter from the tree) crafting her little artsy heart away, and my amazing husband cleaning the kitchen because he knows cleaning just isn’t my thing. I am blessed beyond measure. I have found what it takes for me to be able to slow my brain down enough that I can keep up with things like files and notes so that the part of my practice I excel at (loving people) can be successful. I am still sensitive. I still want people to like and approve of me. But I know if they don’t, it doesn’t define me. I have learned to handle rejection and that it really is okay to mess up sometimes and just be human. And above all, with Jesus I continue to find that not matter what, it is well with my soul.

one handful of peace…

real-not-perfect

Art by Valerie Wieners Art: www.valeriewienersart.com

I find it tremendously valuable to work harder. To be the best. To be the one that others envy due to my consistent willingness to sacrifice. In fact, my mom’s favorite phrase that sticks with me to this day is, “Stephanie has been in a hurry all of her life.” And it’s true. I want to do more or be better. Never have I been able to be settle. To realize my enough was enough or that it’s okay to be right where I am. I need somewhere to go. And quickly.

I supposed that’s been the greatest lesson of learning that I have ADHD. Understanding why I have been in a hurry all of my life. Because if I’m honest, I rush about, but rarely get much done without chasing my tail in a thousand different directions.

My family and friends try to keep up as my hair catches on fire with ideas about a new project, but then move on just as quickly to something else. I am a doer by design. And I embrace it! But treating this lack of dopamine in my brain has helped me to slow down and make sense of some things.

The other day I looked closely at what I want out of life. One word came to mind. Balance. I want balance. I don’t know that I’ve ever had it. So I began looking at what I would need to get it. Worthy and Capable. To slow down enough to achieve balance, I need to trust that God has made me worthy and capable.

I started looking up Bible verses about balance and came across this:

Then I saw that all hard work and skillful effort come from rivalry. Even this is pointless. It’s like trying to catch the wind. A fool folds his hands and wastes away. One handful of peace and quiet is better than two handfuls of hard work and of trying to catch the wind. Ecclesiastes 4:4-6

Chasing the wind. All hard work and skillful effort come from rivalry. Rivalry with others – maybe – I do like to be the best. But mostly it’s a fierce blood bath that occurs right inside the darkest corners of myself. Impulsive decisions, lack of being able to organize even when I try, forgetting things that led to someone I care about getting hurt, or abandoning an idea too quickly and leaving others behind has left me feeling so unworthy and inadequate that I wondered if God just made me a faulty human. I tried to do better, but it was like spitting into a hurricane force gust. I kept messing up.

Enter profound depression and anxiety dominating my thoughts: You are a mistake. It doesn’t matter how hard you try. You will never be good enough. You were an accident. There is no reason for you to be alive. You should just give up before you end up hurting someone else. You are too needy. Stop trying to get better. You never will. You are a failure.

Like a bad rollercoaster…I would feel awful about myself, try to do something amazing, sometimes fail, sometimes succeed…but it was never enough. My mind would continue to turn itself like a washing machine stuck on the spin cycle with a combination of worries, ideas, and thoughts that never stop. And who wants to be still when your brain is stuck on the spin cycle? It makes you dizzy. So dizzy that you just can’t stand it. Never finding peace because even when you try to be still, your brain makes it exhausting.

One handful of peace and quiet is better than two handfuls of hard work and of trying to catch the wind.

One handful of peace. That is what treating ADHD has given me. One tremendous overflowing amazingly profound handful of peace. It’s the sloppy wet sloshing in between my fingers that I have been looking to find my whole life. It’s my worthy. And my capable. For the first time I can look back on things and think…wow…that was pretty cool what God allowed me do to there. I can tie up the details of a project or organize my closet without getting overwhelmed and giving up. And then I can sit down and be still. I can experience peace.

So it may sound strange to some that finding out and treating ADHD has been an answer to prayer. No one really wants a diagnosis. But when you have suffered for 35 years and finally find the answer it’s a breath of fresh air. It’s the gift of being able to sit down and enjoy the cool brisk movement of the wind as it touches my skin rather than getting up immediately trying to chase it. For the first time, I am content.

believe her for more…


img_3860

Most of us want to be believed in. To be trusted with much. We like others to make an investment. When they do we feel worthy. Less shame. These investors likely come and go…but the impact God allows them to make on our life remains.

And when it gets dark outside and insides tremble with pain…we seem to need our investors all the more…

Nothing stretches out a nagging sense of unworthiness like difficult circumstances…and at the pinnacle of unworthiness lies shame.

Shame kicks us when we’re down. Shame works it’s way into our souls and leaves us holding tight onto our value. Will the tough time snatch it away? It can’t. But sometimes we just know that it might.

Maybe you, like me, have a difficult time believing in yourself. Maybe patterns that have been misunderstood all your life leave you weary and carrying a backpack full of rocks that say you are broken-too far gone-unhelpable.

If we truly want to move forward, we lean heavy into our investors, but only for a period of time. The ultimate goal of making an investment is that there will be a return. A gain. The investors job is not to give endlessly into our pool of broken ways – it’s to provide ample resources for success. They believe us for more until we can believe in ourselves.

Then there’s Jesus. Resource rich and impeccably generous. He sees our faulty ways of being and loves us the same. The wisest investor, not out of necessity, but because of grace. The only one who believed us for more even before we spoke the language of His ways.

Because of Him we don’t have to be afraid of what will happen if an investor runs out of resources, drops the rope, or simply moves on.  The sustaining love of Christ is and always has been the totality of our enough. Circumstances may in fact decrease our value for a time being, but God always provides a double portion return. With him, your ways of being never disqualify you. They make you capable.

So maybe we can all thank God for our investors. Those who walk with us until we swallow worth and redemption. Those who never ran away from our mess or pain. And maybe when the time is right we will return the favor in new and sparkly ways as a small part of someone else’s really awesome Jesus thing.

 

perfect peace…

perfect-peace

I’ve always had trouble with peace and gone about creating it different ways. Maybe I can organize peace. Or perfect circumstances and they will become peace. Maybe if I feel good enough I will find peace. Finding peace has become my endless quest for more. Until I slowed down….

I was challenged by a book I read, Present over Perfect, to slow my roll. Because peace is rarely about more – and often about less. Peace is enjoying what is in front of you to its fullness rather than going out and trying to find it elsewhere. It’s a gift inside of you. You don’t have to hunt for it or perfect the endless files in your briain until you finally  find it. No…peace is what God said it is…it surpasses understanding.

Peace is about centering your heart and mind on God’s Word and willingness to accept the present. Peace is always available. We have to allow our brains space to let it in. Peace is about giving our hearts and mind over to God. It’s sinking deep into the moment of life and soaking it in. It’s letting life be what it is.

The past is gone and the future is fleeting. All we have is the present to make peace the most active and understated greatness we can ever experience. Peace is both simplistic and incredibly complex. It’s enjoying what God has for you without rushing off to assume he doesn’t have complete control over what is coming next.

When the big UPS truck pulls up to deliver Monday with all of it’s problems and worries, you can deal with it then. Take the package when it arrives and stop trying to track the delivery. Instead make space to allow the moment to be what it is. That’s the key to letting God’s perfect peace rule over your heart and mind.

Set the files aside. Strength is not always found in understanding. Be still. God is in fact Holy. And He will assume the roll of your understanding when the time comes. Allow your heart some space to rest. Enjoy your perfect peace.

because it’s okay not to be okay…

grace

It’s okay not to be okay, but it’s NOT okay to stay that way.

I remember hearing this phrase in middle school. I don’t know if it was a Baptist thing or what…but it was clearly a part of my church upbringing. To most people this meant grace. It meant redemption. It meant forgiveness, second chances, and opportunities for improvement. But I had on a thick pair of distorted glasses. And filtering through my lens this statement meant it’s okay that you sucked at life in the past but you better get it together NOW. Don’t ever make a mistake. And if you do hide your baggage and bury the ashes. No one should EVER know!

And so I did. I was excellent at stifling the dirty within. Preaching the Jesus message but suffering under a weight that felt like forgiveness was just a lie. Maybe it was good enough for other people, but not for me. I was the one who had stayed that way. The one who knew right from wrong and wasn’t strong enough to defeat the flesh. The failure.

It didn’t stop after middle school, or even high school, or college, or even now that I have a successful practice. The worn out message and the dysfunctional way I processed stuck. It looks different. I might call it fear of making a mistake, or perfectionism, or approval addiction – but it’s the same thing. The nagging feeling that everyone else moved forward into awesomeness and I stayed that way. 

Turns out other people feel that way too…

Like everyone else has their stuff together and somehow we missed the bus. That something went terribly wrong. That we must work unbelievably hard to cover up the ugly.

And when it interferes with our lives we call it depression, or anxiety, or PTSD, or OCD. And there is a VERY biological component to all of these. But there are also generational ways of being that aren’t easily disregarded. Our parents needed things orderly, their parents needs things pretty, their parents parents truly believed it wasn’t okay not to be okay – and so on and so forth and all of us just did what we had to do to survive.

Here I am listening to It is Well with My Soul wondering how it took me this long to realize this is true. That the first part of the message is just as important as the last. That it is okay not to be okay. And maybe it’s not okay to stay that way is less about never making a mistake and more about resting in knowing that even when I do make mistakes, Jesus doesn’t let it define me. That he sees me as perfectly okay. More than perfectly okay. Perfectly loved. Perfectly blessed. Perfectly equipped. Perfectly flawed in all the weak weak ways that push me to call on His strength and power. Power made perfect in weakness. That Jesus is good with me just the way I am. That He died for you just the way you are. That it can be well with all of our souls because it is indeed okay to not be okay because Jesus doesn’t let us stay that way.

And so looking through the dysfunctional lenses of our past, entangled among fears about the present, maybe we can all just decide that life doesn’t have to be pretty. That the cross was never a pretty thing in the first place. Maybe we can just all agree to accept each others ugly because life was never perfect anyways. And that’s more than okay.

 

Because it gets pretty loud in here…

quietOne thing we often fail to associate with anxiety is how dang loud it is. Different than the loudness of the washing machine as it rumbles in the middle of the night when you forget to wash your kids field trip shirt. Or the barking of the dogs that wakes you up out of a profound deep sleep. (Although these are two of the most annoying noises I can think of). I’m talking about the endless chatter that takes place inside those of us who worry. Who over think. Who crowd everything that belongs in present out with endless troublesome chatter about the past and future. Those of us with anxiety.

As I read Zephaniah today, pondering this internal banter and looking for answers about how to turn down the volume, I came across this verse…

He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.   Zephaniah 3:17

It’s a verse I am familiar with. One that makes me smile often. But I thought of it differently today…in particular the part where it says he will quiet you with his love.

Because when I look at my own anxiety – it often takes different forms and I experience it in different ways – but at the center of it all swirls a few nagging questions – Am I loved? Am I good enough? Will people see my vulnerabilities/failures/mistakes and decide they don’t want or need me?

So I look for reassurance. Or more of something. One more person to tell me I did a great job. One more accomplishment. One more great session. One more like on Facebook. One more spin on the achievement merry go round. Maybe this last turn won’t leave me dizzy and instead will allow me to finally hand down the verdict that I am indeed “okay”. But it never happens. The cup may temporarily fill, but it quickly drains and begs for more.

But Jesus…He wants to do this quiet thing. He wants to still me with His love.

Why? Maybe He knows I’m not perfect…even when I drown myself in internal expectations that say I have to be. Maybe He wants me to rest in being known rather than running after something I have to earn. Maybe that’s why salvation and unconditional love are a free gift? He meant them to be enjoyed in the still and quiet moments rather than constantly sought after by fallible souls surrounded with flesh.

And so this Sunday rolls over me like Sunday’s often do. Getting ready for the week where I will spend much of my time tending to an internal back and forth. Did you do enough today? Did you make too many mistakes? Will people love you? What will they think? Judging action after action and phrase after phrase. Trying to surmise if I will prove myself worthy of love or affection. But this Sunday I am more cognizant of the fact that I have a choice. The remote control is inside of me and if I choose to attend to God’s voice who says I am already enough, I might be a little less exhausted. I might find peace. And so might you.

 

Depression can wear really dang cute awesome shoes…

shoesSometimes we’re afraid to pray for healing because it would hurt too bad if we prayed for it and it didn’t happen. It would solidify the abandonment wounds of our past. Not that Christ has ever abandoned us, but when humans have, it makes it feel like God will too.

I suppose that’s where I have been. Depression and anxiety have been long term battles for me. Yes I am a therapist. Yes I am aware of what I need to do to lift myself out of a funk. Yes I do the work necessary. Yes I practice good self-care. But at times it rises up and tries to get the best of me. And I want to pray for healing, but what would happen if God said no…

I made a graphic a while back that mentioned something along the lines of “depression can still wear cute shoes.” I suppose what I was trying to say is that some of the most depressed humans on the planet can be extremely functional. We can do a good job raising our families. We can be incredibly successful at work. We can have amazing friendships and solid active quiet times with Jesus. We can listen to nothing but worship music, go for runs in the afternoon, and even make sure we are getting pedicures and pampering ourselves by all means appropriate and necessary. We can be functional by every definition in the book. And still be dying inside. Depression does not discriminate and it doesn’t always look like the dirty reclusive woman who hides out in her house and is incapacitated by her feelings of sadness. Long story short, depression can wear really dang cute awesome shoes.

And so here I find myself, on what I feel is the tail end of yet another round in the ring with my ruthless enemy. It fights hard. It’s relentless and it doesn’t give up easily. Being a therapist doesn’t make me immune to the woundedness I often find myself treating. Because depression and anxiety don’t always bow down to strategies and therapeutic means. Sometimes it’s biological and hormonal and we have to get the body going in the right direction before the mind has the capacity to follow.

And sometimes it masks our ability to want to pray for good things. Because that’s the opposite of what depression will tell you to do. It will tell you that you certainly aren’t worthy of anything good – nor would anyone (including God) want to help you – so why even try? But I just want to say that sometimes we need to start praying for big things. Even if we are terrified that the big thing is so reclusive it must be impossible.

God’s intervention may look like a referral to the clinic to get your body going in the right direction, it might look like help through counseling, it might look like starting to exercise, it might look like a thousand different things. But when you are at the end of your rope God knows it. And He won’t and hasn’t abandoned you. He sees you. He hasn’t stopped caring or given up. But sometimes we have to risk the prayer of hope and decide that healing might be possible and worth pursing. That Jesus can do far beyond what we have capacity to understand. That yes depression can wear really awesome shoes, but so can healing. And it’s time to get up and pray like we mean it, fight like a warrior (even when we are exhausted), and give it yet another day.

this is how I rise…

rise

People rise in different ways.

Some adapt and overcome, easily swimming the seas of adversity.

Rapidly scaling walls and hurling themselves over.

They rise quickly and rapidly. Rarely leaving behind witnesses to their pain.

But this is not how I rise…I rise much differently.

The currents always seem to take me under.

Sucking me into their locked sacred catacombs for a bit before deciding I don’t belong there and spitting me out.

I don’t climb walls rapidly.

Rather I sit for a while and ponder why they exist.

I like to stay for a bit in seasons of adversity.

It’s here I learn to sit and linger amongst those who have yet to figure out why the dirty exists.

I rise differently.

And it’s not a bad thing.

It’s just who I am and how God made me.

To struggle amidst the dark abyss of suffering.

To lay down in it’s silence – because to me – it means something.

It’s crucial. Painful. It’s process.

So I may rise and I may fall.

I may get sucked under and I may simply exist.

But there is a deep inexplicable value in that existence.

I’m okay with learning to sit.