Ode'min Giiziskwe

So much change since my last post! After a decade in the Pacific NW, we as a family decided to move back east and be closer to Cory ' s family. I didn't have grandparents growing up but Cory did, and I think it makes a huge difference in a child's life when they have great grandparents. So back to New England. Crazy, I know. I'm getting the chance to be a stay at home mom for a little while and decide if I want to continue social work, or go back to school, or focus on working with native community. Right now I'm just greatful for the ten years in Oregon. Good, bad, ugly, beautiful. I grew as a woman, realized how strong I am, and how to remain strong when others are ugly and hurtful. I've learned how to give unconditionally, how to share my heart, and how to be unabashedly honest about what kind of people I want to share myself with. Most importantly, I learned how to love myself and respect others. I'm a mom to two beautiful human beings, married my best friend, was able to attend many sacred ceremony, and given my Anishinaabe name. I will do my best to honor this name by continuing to help others and to love completely. Chi Miigwech Oregon. You gifted me in the best way possible.

Breathe

I work really hard every day at being a better person than the day before.

Some days are harder than others...like today.

I do something for family, something to make them feel connected. Then others decide it's ok to turn it into something unrelated and really inappropriate.

I'm sensitive to a fault. When people are mean to others, my family, or me directly, it hurts. When my ability, my skills, dedication, and my intentions are challenged, it gets to my core.

Tomorrow is another day, and those who choose a path that is hurtful, are the ones I pray for the most. There is no reason to be that way, and often it comes from a place where folks just can't take responsibility for their own mess.

So do I have regrets for the day? Not really. Only that I let people's words take me to an angry place today.

I love my family and friends and the work I do. It's my reason for getting up everyday.

Unplugged

I just deactivated my Facebook account, and I was a tiny bit weirded out when I hit "deactivate". Like something weird might happen.

But nothing happened, and I'm now free of that weird space.

*exhale*

43 trips around the sun

Tattooist Irene 'Bobbie' Libarry In two more days I will be 43 years old.

43


Fourty-three

I never thought I'd make it past 30. My sister didn't, why would I? I never imagined life beyond my twenties, so perhaps, that is why the last 15 years just sort of flew by without any concern. I have just been living my life, moving, changing jobs, new friends, body changing, more and more tattoos, husband, kids, grey hair, then 43.

I used to make a big thing out of my birthday, and as I have aged I have found myself less and less concerned with big parties. I did small dinners out with friends for a while, and this year we are having Chekota's adoption ceremony on my birthday. I did that on purpose. I wanted her special day to be a part of my special day. My intention is not to take from her, but to share something very special with her.

We tell her often that she has two mommy's and daddy's and another brother and sister. Of course she doesn't understand, but my hope is that when she does, having her adoption date and my birthday together, will give her and I a special bond. Creating special bonds and celebrations, separate from Kai, I feel are important for Chekota. Navigating the waters of bio kids and adoptive kids, is sometimes a challenge. But my hope is that Chekota will know that we love her as much as Kai, even if they have different birth stories.


I've been thinking a lot about my being "middle aged", what that means, and truly letting it all hang out.

I'm letting my grey hair come in, and I feel very liberated since having my hysterectomy. This is something I didn't think would happen because I was so sad before the surgery. Now, I feel like a whole new woman. I'm EXCITED to get older...and older...and wiser. The comfort I feel as I get older, is something I cannot explain. I no longer feel the need to keep up with trends and technology. Sure I'm still interested in those things, but I'm not worried about falling behind. Same goes with tv shows, fashion, and pop music. It almost feels like I should be going back to my ways when I was 18...wear what I want, listen to the music that I have always loved and prefer, and be that weirdo lady.

I guess I am basically saying that I am very grateful for still being here, still strong, empowered, and happy. I'm looking forward to the next 40 years.

Unpluged from FaceSpace for good...I think.

I say this often, I am a bad blogger. But honestly, I'm just lazy. Facebook was an easy way to update the world with my life. But what am I really doing? Just sharing other peoples posts that resonate with me, putting my politics out there, my religion, my kids....


All the health problems I have had for the last 4 years have really changed me and the way I think about information sharing. Don't get me wrong, I love technology, but I feel like it has to much of a presence in my life, and I need to reconnect with people in a more human way.

Does that make sense?

I find myself looking at my phone while my kids are saying, "mommy, mommy, hey mommy"...it makes me sad that I do that to them. They deserve a more attentive mother.


So after Chekota's ceremony, my life will only be shared here. I need to be more present in my life, and I keep having these desires to move to the woods.

If only.

Post Partum Depression (posted in 2013)

So.


PPD is for real and harsh, and was taking over my life for the last few months.


Honestly, as educated as I think I am, the body and mind are always throwing me off my axis. I didn't think that I would be hit with PPD because I had a c-section, perhaps I was in denial.


I have struggled with anxiety and depression since I was 13. I have had more therapists, psychiatrists, counselors, DBT sessions,(despite NOT being BPD), hospitalizations, and been on more medications than I would like to admit. Sometimes treatment works, sometimes not. Sometimes I just need to do ceremony and I'm ok, sometimes I need western medicine intervention, sometimes just a hug.


I was back in therapy before I had the baby, before I was even pregnant. I was in therapy this last time because after my dad died and I got divorced, I slipped back into that dark space where I isolate and push others away. To the point where panic and anxiety set in. Finding myself pulling over in the middle of rush hour traffic because I can't focus on where I am going and my heart starts to race and the feeling of impending doom washes over me. It stays there with no intention of leaving, like a poppy seed stuck in between your teeth.


When I got pregnant, Dr. M said to me, "I think we need to start using the Edinburgh Postnatal Depression Scale now, so we have a baseline". I looked it up. Then felt like I was 13 again, marking off boxes on "How I felt"...what if you can't explain how you feel? I just marked what fit closest.


After Kai was born, I began sobbing non-stop for weeks. No reason, no trigger, just all of the sudden I was uncontrollably crying and absolutely inconsolable. I would be feeding him, changing him, just laying in bed with him and the water works would begin. I felt like that was normal and possibly having had a baby caused all those new mommy hormones to trigger the shit I have not dealt with surrounding my mom dying. Then I had to go back to work. Yeah, not good timing. This continued at work, at my desk, in the bathroom, in the parking lot, in my car, and on and on. So Dr. M increased my anti-depressants, and put me on benzo's.


Things seemed to be improving slowly, then one day in a meeting, AT WORK, I had a panic attack. Worst one I have had in years. Couldn't breathe, sobbing, hands cramping up, and on the verge of disassociating. Some co-workers who I had confided in, saw me outside wandering around crying in a panic and sat me down. They started to talk to me, getting my meds out of my purse, calling my shrink, smudging me, caring for me. My shrink calls my husband to come get me and take me home and pick up a new prescription.


Rad.

I do try to live my life in a good native way, I'm not traditional nor was I raised as such, but I do what I can. Is this anxiety crap a chemical imbalance and a part of who I am?

When I am under too much stress, not eating right, not caring for myself, the cycle starts. It may take weeks or even months to catch up to me, but it eventually will. I can feel the build up, the tension, the fear, the shaking of my legs, picking of my nails, and the obsessive thoughts. I just do not know how to stop it once the cycle begins.


To be honest, when I was in my '20s I kind of enjoyed the build up. Almost like a weird adrenalin rush of sorts. I would think, hmmm, I wonder how bad it will be this time? Will I be able to manage it solo and un-medicated? Where will it happen? But those moments were few and far between. Most of the time I would try to just hide and ride it out.


I can't do that anymore. I'm a mom and wife, and friend.

Then that obnoxious voice in my head says, "You're fiiine. Stop your meds, they are poison". So here I am, week three into weaning myself off my meds.


Of course I feel fine right now....stable, strong, in control, supported. My husband is supportive of my choices and just keeps an extra close eye on my moods and checks in when things seem above or below my baseline. I am grateful for him every single fucking day and I know I say that a lot. 

So I'm just trying to breathe, and hope, and be present...and reach out when I need too.

*Update 

It's been a year since this post, and things are good.

Year one post pardum, nearly done.

Here we are, nearing the end of 2013, and I can proudly say, that we as a family, survived the first year of Kai's life. While we still have a month to go, I feel like we overcame SO MUCH as new parents, all over again. I struggled with PPD for many, many months, and my choice to go off my meds, was not a smart one. I went back to counseling and went back on meds. I need to, and it's ok. I'm a better mom, wife, friend, co-worker, etc. It's not forever, just for now.

Work is good, I'm in a new position and feel much more supported and more able to be involved in cultural activities. Working on many projects and supporting little ones in foster care. Something very close to my heart.

Chekota is entering the terrible three's, well not officially until April, but the kid is ahead of the game! She can count up 4, knows colors and is talking up a storm. She has some delays as far as language due to her birth complications, but she is making strides in that as well. I feel so blessed to be her mom. Her adoption will be final in two months...after nearly three years.


I have to deal with having my gallbladder removed soon, but it's going to be fine. Being pregnant caused a lot of health issues for me, not that I have any regrets, I would do it again for Kai, but now I need to focus on my physical health. It's very important to stay in balance, and this last year has been a true test of my ability to stay in balance. I know where my strength is and my weakness. I am so grateful for Cory, my friends and family, and my community. You are my heart.


Upward and onward I say. I hope that 2014 brings much health, joy, and love to everyone...I see bright things ahead for my little family, and that makes all the struggle worth it.