HOME.

If I have learned something about myself, it’s that my adaptation to life events have been quicker and less depressing. Since I was diagnosed with mixed anxiety-depressive disorder, I have had a cushion to blame my outbursts of crying and being shut-out to the world. It wasn’t until I gave birth to my first daughter that I realized I needed a change. A change that had to originate from the pit of my soul. A change that would seep through my veins and settle in my heart and brain. This change, although not predicted with the “how”, began to take over my being. I had a sudden urge of tasting God. If your not familiar with this statement, it’s completely understandable. In The Bible, John 6 : 54-56, it is said “54 Whoever eats - my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him on the last day. 55 For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. 56 Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.” I wanted to know what God tasted like. I wanted to feel peace, the hope for eternal life. I wasn’t prepared for this journey but I was not completely unfamiliar with it. My parents tried to raise me as Catholic but because of the negative events that happened while attending church with mom, the attempt was over shadowed. Church and God were still a mystery and was not appreciated. When my baby girl was born, my urge to knowing what was supposed to be taught over powered me.

Anyway, thanks to this random desire to follow my faith journey, it has opened me up with more ways to “dealing.” I don’t think that there is such thing as being a waste of space anymore. I no longer believe that I am not wanted or needed. I no longer feel like I could ever be alone, partly because the husband and children don’t know or haven’t practice MOMMY’S PERSONAL SPACE. I do go through moments of sadness, and I still have anxiety attacks but the recover time is way quicker than I ever knew it to be. I am able to recognize when I am being unreasonable, and I’m able to switch perspectives more as needed. I haven’t gotten the praying-everyday-thing down, but I do pray. I just don’t do it as often as I wish I could. I’m working on that.

Currently, I am trying to be gentle. Gentle to myself, gentle with my family. I am trying this because this life is taking a turning point with our children. Schools are infested with sick children who do not know how to channel their anger. Children are fighting in schools and recording it for likes and shares. It’s crazy. I guess that I am not necessarily preparing myself, only, but also my children and the children who surround me.

I have a nephew that is just… hard to get. My moms and pops are raising him because his mother, my cousin, abandoned him. There’s two of them, they are brothers. But this one specific kid… man oh man. They have diagnosed him with ODD or Oppositional defiant disorder. Children with ODD are defiant and always are on the opposite scale of a conversation.

“Kiddo, wash your hands for dinner.”

“No, I like them dirty.”

“Ok, then sit down and eat with dirty hands.”

“How dare you make me eat with dirty hands?!”

“Ok, let’s go wash your hand together.”

“I’m not a baby, I can do it myself!”

“Ok, come eat.”

“I am so hungry I’m going to die!”

“No, you’re not, come on.”

*Starts rolling on the floor*

“It hurts! It hurts! I’m so hungry!”

*grabs stomach while rolling*

“Kid, come on, eat.”

*eats half of his meal*

“Oh my God, I’m so full. OK bye!”

This is an example from last night. I want to be gentle, I’m sure my mom wants to be gentle, I’m sure everyone wants to be gentle. But it is clear that everyday we have a new worry. All we want and pray for is for these kids to be… sane and sound. Not to get killed for how they respond or dress or act. We as a family, we know what we need to work with, but others? How will the world be o.k. with a defiant child who will grow to be a defiant grown-up? Or how will my low-spoken niece be able to conquer the cruel reality of the world? How will my daughter not be blinded by vanity if her beauty follow’s her to her adult-hood? How will my other nephews and nieces have a healthy relationship with others if the examples of their own parents abandoning them has caused so much trauma already? How can we be better for them?

All I truly want and all I think we have control over is to create a safe space for them. When they experience cruelty, I hope they know, what took me years of therapy to understand, that “Home” is where these efforts are taken.

Home is where love is.