Surviving and Thriving after someone was drunk driving...

Life can change in an instant. Twelve years ago, I took my son to spend the day with his Oma and Opa. To have a pool day in the heat of summer, and just let my sweet four-year-old enjoy every moment before it was time for me to go back to teaching, and for him to go back to preschool. The day was truly wonderful. Laughs galore, and memories that will forever live in our hearts. On the way home we stopped at Target to get a few needed items and made our way back to our house. The entire drive (from my parents to my home was about 15 minutes). It was barely 9pm at night. I remember looking to my left as I set my signal to exit the freeway, and my son asked, “momma, are we almost home.” I responded, “Yes baby, almost there.” And then, as if we were cast in a scene from final destination our world exploded. I can still hear my son’s blood-curdling scream. I tried to slam on my brakes while it felt like our car was ripped in half, I was screaming for my son, “baby, are you okay, are you okay baby,” all while trying to bring the car to a stop, but the brakes weren’t responding. My son was screaming for me. After what felt like a lifetime, I was able to slow the car down and come to a stop. My door was jammed by whatever happened and I had to slam my body into it in order to open the door. My son’s door was nonexistent, and I had to pull him over my seat to get him out of the car. I held him so tight, and we dropped to our knees. We were both crying, shaking and totally unaware of what had happened. A woman approached me and asked if we were okay, she must have registered that I was in shock and told me that she witnessed the whole thing and that we were hit by a drunk driver. She said the ambulance and police were on the way and asked if I needed anything. During the impact everything in the car was displaced and I couldn’t find my phone, so thankfully this beautiful soul allowed me to use her phone to call my husband and parents. We stood on the side of the road and saw my van literally smashed and totaled. We survived. My son had asked if he could sit in the very back on the way home and something stirred in my spirit and I told him no, that I didn’t want to move his seat, and it would be faster for him to stay sitting behind me. If he hadn’t been in the seat he was in, he wouldn’t be here today. There was no trunk or back row left. Our minivan was turned into a 4-seat sedan from the impact. In the distance I could see lights and the lady said that two men pulled over with their trucks and blocked the driver in because he was trying to leave. The police, firefighters and ambulance showed up but went to him first, it took about 20 minutes for them to make their way to us after they arrived. They said he didn’t suffer any injuries. They examined us; my sons face was bloody from being hit in the face by something in the car, but he was okay physically, aside from that. They cleaned him up and examined me. My blood pressure was dangerously high, and they wanted to take us by ambulance, but I was already so anxious and just wanted my husband to take us to the hospital. We were there for hours, and I had to sign a waiver to be released.

The police report predicted that he hit us going over 100mph. That on impact he spun out and went into the shoulder, thankfully avoiding all other vehicles, so, by the grace of God, it was just the two of us that were involved. He was 4xs over the legal limit for alcohol and high. When they walked him past us to put him in the police car near us, he was laughing and smiling and saying, “what happened, I’m fine, I can go home.” He had no idea what he had done. The next year would continue to create trauma as him and his attorney did everything to avoid any type of repercussion for his actions. All I wanted was for him to get help, he was only 21 at the time. My son and I sought counseling, which didn’t go too well for us at the time. It was horrible trying to get an appointment to begin with (we had Kaiser at the time), and the wait was long. The intake process and subsequent appointments were anything but helpful, and I began to do my own research on how to help my son. Unfortunately, I was also let go from my private teaching position because of physical limitations due to the accident. I had no idea what to do. I loved teaching and never thought that God might have different plans. As I learned more about play therapy, God put on my heart to pursue a counseling psychology degree. He took what the enemy meant for evil, and He turned it for good. I knew that I never wanted another family or child to go through what we went through when we were looking for help.

That accident happened twelve years ago, and while I live with chronic back and neck pain, and my son and I were both diagnosed with PTSD, panic disorder and generalized anxiety, I am beyond thankful that God had plans for our lives. Not everyone is able to walk away from these accidents. In the US alone, 29 people die every day due to intoxicated driving. That is 1 death every 50 minutes. Sadly only 1% of people who drive under the influence will ever face any kind of consequence for their actions. Twelve years later and we are still impacted by this “accident,” that could have so easily been avoided had this young man made a different decision. As crazy as it might sound, I thank God that he hit us and not a family in a smaller vehicle. That it was only us involved in that accident. And I still pray that he was able to turn his life around and find hope, help, and healing.

There are so many options these days. No one has to drive under the influence. And we need to do better and not allow others to engage in these behaviors. I am not sure what the answer is, but I know too many people personally that have suffered greatly because of drivers who are under the influence. There is help and hope. There are programs and people who care enough to help those struggling with addiction or risky behaviors.

When I look back at the picture I am transported to that moment, and while it is a moment I wish I could forget, its one that will be with me for the rest of my life. I am blessed to be here today. To have my son and to continue to share this testimony. The enemy meant to kill us that day, but God made beauty from the ashes.

This is part of my story. And it is what brought me to find my own help and healing. It allowed me to connect with wonderful colleagues and create a path for myself that allows me to help people every day. I am so honored and privileged to work with all my clients and to help them write stories they love for themselves. I know that life can change in an instant, and I do not take that for granted.

If you or someone you know is struggling call or text 988 or call 211 for local resources. There are also plenty of celebrate recovery programs, AA, and invitation to change programs.

My Story of Pain and Purpose

I am complex.

We all are. We are all so much more than what others see. We are more than what others believe us to be. We are more than unmet expectations, boxes that have been constructed for us to fit into, and the disappointments others express in us.

We are also so much more than the good days. The perfect Instagram worthy posts. The pinterest projects and endless to-do lists that finally got done. We are more than sunshine and rainbows and the smiles plastered to our faces.

We are more than the fake and phony. We are more than the pretending and “I’m fine.” We are more than our illness and wellness. We are complex.

When I set out on this journey to share my story, I really did not think of the extent of what my story was. You see, I had been taught (somewhere along the way), that my story and my voice did not matter. It was not as important as someone else’s. The pain not as great as another’s. The trauma not as significant and therefore devalued; it means nothing if someone has it worse. But I want to change that narrative. I believe fully and wholly that transparency and vulnerability create meaningful connection. When we realize that we are not alone in our journeys, that people genuinely care and understand, we are able to move forward with hope.

I hope that in my sharing, you will find your light. You will believe that wellness is possible. Healing is possible. You are worth investing in and that people do genuinely care.

I was just a little girl, 4 years old when my Opi (German grandpa) passed away. I can still remember playing happy birthday for him on my portable keyboard. He was in his bed a lot at this time, but that didn’t matter, I loved him, and he loved me, and I just enjoyed his company. One day my parents sent me to stay with my cousin. I recall vividly them hurrying me into the car to get back to my house. I plead for them to tell me what was going on, but no one would. When we got back everyone was crying, and my Opi was gone. No one would tell me what was going on, but his bed was empty. That was when I first drew the conclusion that when I leave bad things happen. This thought process planted its faulty seed into my mind and sprouted years of agony and trying to be there for everyone and everything. But bad stuff inevitably happens. Shortly thereafter my parents decided to move to the United States. I was 6. I left behind my friends, family, pets, home, and belongings. I got on a plane and moved to California, we lived with my “American” grandparents. I did not speak or understand English, I was put into an ESL class (where everyone, including the teacher spoke Spanish), I had no friends, and I was the weird foreign kid. An immigrant. Throughout school I endured pretty severe bullying, from kids and teachers alike. I was locked into dark bathrooms, death threats were issued to me and my family if I ever told anyone, I was called a Nazi often. So, I became a chameleon. I learned how to fit and adapt. How to be liked and how to keep others happy. Once I had “friends” the bullying did not matter as much anymore. Some kids thought it was cool that I spoke a different language and that I was “different.” What I really wanted them to believe is that I was the same.

At home things were not much better. My parents worked a lot, they had to, and I respect how far they have come and the lives they have made for themselves. I endured a lot of verbal abuse from a relative. I was told I did not matter. That I would never have friends. I was too ugly. I was not worth life. I was told, as a young girl, that no one would ever want me. This person would purposely make fun of me when my friends were around, call me degrading names, tell me I should run away or die. What was meant to break me, only made me stronger. I realized this person was afraid of me. Afraid of my courage and strength, of my intelligence and resiliency. This person wanted to bring me down because they were unhappy; they projected themselves onto me. I watched as they continued to try to berate and belittle me, and I chose not to break. I chose not to let them see me cry. To say it didn’t hurt would be a lie, but when you are exposed to pain repeatedly, eventually you go numb. The numbness worked to my advantage though, it allowed me to live my life as the positive person that I knew I was. I have always loved people; loved helping and being there for others. No one was going to change that about me. I grew up around substance use and abuse as well, I learned that a lot of people self-medicate at an early age. I was a latch-key kid and always tried my hardest to help my parents in any way I could.

When I was younger, I didn’t know that I had anxiety. I would feel sick every day (somatic symptoms) and go to the nurse. I had trouble sleeping even when I was little and would experience night terrors and nightmares basically every night. I learned how to stay up all night reading with a flashlight because it was better than the night terrors. My intrusive thoughts sometimes got the best of me and they manifested in OCD tendencies and perfectionism. I pushed myself hard and was always in competition with someone (self-imposed) to keep myself at my best. I worried about literally everything. I worried about worry.

At the age of 11 another life-altering event happened. My Omi (German grandma) was visiting and staying with us. My brother was 2 at the time and napping in his room and I was helping my Omi with laundry while watching a show. She said she wasn’t feeling well, but didn’t want my mom to worry, said she would be fine. My mom left and went to work. My Omi went in her room to put away her clothes. When the show ended, I realized she still wasn’t back, and I went to check on her. That’s when I found her. She was on her floor in her bedroom. I panicked. I called my other grandma hysterically; I ran to my neighbors who called 911. But it was already too late. The fire department and ambulance seemed to take forever to get there, they wouldn’t let me go inside. My neighbor waited with me outside of my house. That day changed a lot for me. I lost a lot. And I realized that I would never be enough. When my Opi died, I drew the conclusion that bad things happened when I wasn’t there, so I was always there for people. But my Omi still died. I didn’t pay enough attention, I wasn’t fast enough, I didn’t respond well. The inner critic was right, that relative was right. I would never be good enough.

That didn’t stop me from trying harder though. I was in all honors classes. I took 7 periods most of my high school years. I was involved in extra-curricular activities and volunteered. If anyone needed anything, I was there. I was a people-pleaser. Very good givers attract the best takers, and I was okay with that. At least they thought I had something to give.  

High school was also the time I developed my truly unhealthy relationship with food. Growing up I was placed on a lot of diets. I think it was common then for moms to always be dieting because I remember all my friend’s moms always being on some sort of new diet-fad as well. But I decided that I could just not eat. So, I didn’t. For a long time. I lived on water and gum. Everyone thought I looked great; they complimented how disciplined I was (although they had no idea, I was not eating at all). I started to not feel my best, I was tired and light-headed a lot, I would get dizzy spells and just drink more water. My mom was doing my hair for a baby shower when I passed out and smashed head-first into the bathroom mirror. Thankfully, I wasn’t hurt. My parents had no idea what was going on. My dad got really upset and learning to eat again wasn’t easy. Yet again, I wasn’t enough. What I learned through this though was that, while I can’t control others and what happens, I can control what and how much I eat. I needed control of something, so this became my thing.

After high school I worked full-time, went to school full-time and tutored on the side. I always kept myself extremely busy; when I am busy, I don’t have time to think. I had learned how to “manage” my anxiety (which I still didn’t know I had) by distracting myself. Sure, there were days I wish that everything would just go away, or that life would end, but distraction was a good tool to keep my mind occupied.

Around this time someone very close to me tried to commit suicide as well. To say this was a shock is an understatement. Looking back, I see how alone this person felt and how the idea of not needing to be “in it all” anymore was appealing. I am so glad God had different plans though!

  In my early 20’s I met my husband and we had our son. We were relatively young parents and we didn’t have a lot, but we tried our best to do our best. My husband and I had to learn (over the years) how to break habits we didn’t even know we had. We had to learn how to communicate effectively and not recreate our families of origin. We struggled a lot, for quite some time. But we never gave up. When my son was 4, he and I were driving home and were hit by an intoxicated driver that was high and drunk. We had minimal physical wounds (praise God) but we both suffered extremely mentally and emotionally. My son ended up with a PTSD diagnosis, and this was what spiraled my anxiety. The accident allowed me to go back to school though and obtain my masters, and during that program I had my first public panic attack. It took therapy, medication, and a medical diagnosis to finally find reprieve. I had to battle a lot of negative thoughts, core beliefs and faulty thinking; I had to replace my distortions with healthy coping mechanisms and begin to see that not everything is my job. Therapy pushed me, a lot. Therapy taught me, a lot. Therapy helped save me.

I still struggle sometimes; I think we always will to some extent. This world is fallen and broken, and we desire perfection in an imperfect place. But now I have the tools to help me. I learned how to set healthy boundaries and let go of toxic people and relationships, or to minimize my exposure to ones I can’t end. I learned how to shift my focus and keep my eyes on Jesus; how to have grace, not only with others, but with myself. I learned how to advocate for myself and my needs, whether medically or relationally. I know now that when others project onto me, I do not have to accept it, and I can still pray for them and love them. I learned that my anxiety and panic lives with me. My body is its house and sometimes I forget it lives there, but other times I still struggle with sharing space. I learned that wellness is complex too, but it is SO worth investing in and fighting for. I learned that I can’t be enough, but I don’t have to be enough. I give myself permission to be fully me, and I will always do my best to love big and be there for others because that is who I am to my core, but I will no longer be a people-pleaser or welcome mat. I learned that we all have beliefs and ideas, we all have opinions and its okay to be different (even when others don’t want you to be). I learned that this world is perfectly imperfect and that I can lean into that because, so am I. I will never fit into someone else’s box, I will never be someone else’s ideal, I will never be anything but who I am. I can learn. I can grow. I can become a better version of myself, but I will never be perfect, and I have learned to be okay with that. Progress is greater than perfection.

This is a very condensed version of my story. There are specific details I left out and diagnoses that are not mine to share. I have walked through a lot in my life, and yet I know others have walked through more. The things I chose to leave out I did because I do not want to hurt others in sharing my story. I know we all have a version that is true to us. This is my story. It includes pain and illness, but more than that it includes hope and wellness. I may not have always known what I was up against, but if my story shows you anything, I hope it shows you how strong we are. How we learn to cope and adapt. How we can still unlearn negative behaviors and learn positive ones. I hope that my story shows you that we are all connected to each other. Pain and suffering are not discriminatory, they will choose anyone, at any time. But when I reflect back on all of this what I see most prevalent, is the purpose to my pain. My pain catapulted me into my purpose. It showed me that regardless of what we face in life we have choices. It showed me my own strength and ability to rise. It showed me that love always wins and that I have a heart that desires to make a difference.

My story matters.

YOUR story matters.

One day, when you are ready, you can tell your story too. I hope in doing so you can reflect on your story and see your strength and determination. Your heart and soul. That you can see you were worth investing in and fighting for all along. Our stories matter. Our voices matter. Your life matters, and you are never alone.

Codependency: The need to be needed.

“I just want to help…” “Whatever I can do to make your life easier…” “If you did it this way, things would be better…” “Why don’t you ever listen to me?” “I don’t want to talk about it.” “You wouldn’t understand anyway…” “When you behave like that it makes us look bad.” “I feel so sorry for you, what can I do to make things better?”

Have you ever been at the receiving end of these statements, or maybe you have been the one to use them? Not everyone who says these things is codependent, but often, codependency looks like this. For those who are struggling with codependency it might not seem like a bad thing. Generally, you feel like you truly care and love others, you want to be there for them in any way you can. You would drop everything to help someone you love. You feel guilty asserting yourself. Maybe you struggle with trusting yourself and others fully, and your fear of being alone or closed out of the relationship keeps you from identifying and expressing your feelings. You have difficulty making decisions so its easier to just allow the person you love to make them. But codependency is also a need for control; a struggle with insecurity and a struggle with being honest with yourself and others. Codependency creates an unhealthy dependence on relationships. It increases feelings of guilt, anger, and the need for approval and recognition. You can become easily hurt when others do not validate your love for them and all that you do.

At the root of codependent behavior is typically a struggle with poor self-image and low self-esteem. This could have, and often does develop in the childhood/adolescent years and tends to be more prevalent for those who grew up in a home where substance use/abuse occurred. In dysfunctional families, “problems” (of any kind) are not addressed, let alone acknowledged. All the attention goes to the identified problematic person/behavior and often this is when survival mode takes place. The “healthy” individual learns to repress their needs, their emotions and understands that it is more important to shut down and avoid confrontation than it is to deal with the problematic behavior. They learn to detach themselves and become caretakers; Their mantra becomes, “I can fix you… I can rescue you.” This belief system creates an unhealthy balance and resentment when those they love do not meet their expectations. It also creates a deeper dependency on the unhealthy care-taking ability. When one way doesn’t work, the codependent will look internally and blame themselves for the lack of change in others, and therefore try multiple ways to maintain their rescuing abilities. They also often struggle with feeling like chameleons in their relationships, every-changing to meet the needs and satisfy those they do life with. They have a desperate need to be needed and being needed validates their care-taking efforts which often leads to compulsive behaviors. This can leave them feeling like they have no choice but to take care of others and like they are helpless in their situations; although they create their own dynamics, they become victims and struggle to see why no one loves as much as they do.

Codependency is a learned behavior and is often multi-generational. It is both emotional (what the person internalizes) and behavioral (how they interact with the world around them). It makes maintaining healthy relationships extremely difficult, and those who are codependent often struggle with feelings of mutual satisfaction. Codependents often form and maintain relationships that are one-sided, in that they have a clear giver (the codependent) and taker. They run the risk of being in abusive relationships because they desire so deeply to help others and make a difference. Their intentions are good, but their relationships are unhealthy. The good news is that if you or someone you know is struggling with this, there is hope and help. You can connect with a qualified mental health professional and address these concerns. Many times, those who are struggling with codependency take a long time (or someone else saying something) to recognize that they are struggling. It is important to know that your feelings do matter, they are important, and no one should always have to give while others always take. Once we acknowledge and understand unhealthy behavior, we can begin to educate ourselves on the process of healing. It will take a lot of change and growth, there will be times the process hurts, but you will break the cycle by addressing the core issue- we were never meant to save people. Those who struggle with codependency do want to make the world a better place, they often want to save others from the hurt they endured (but have repressed), and they desire to be genuinely good people. What they do not realize is, a person has to want to change to do so, and those they tend to form relationships with maintain the dysfunctional lifestyle without ever recognizing the problem; this not only perpetuates the dysfunction, it creates a stronger dependency on the codependent behavior.

If you are reading this today and are thinking to yourself, “I do want to fix people, I do want to save people from hurt, heartache and disappointment… I know how to help them… I can make a difference…” then I want you to understand, that was never meant to be your role. It is not your job to save or rescue, you can’t fix anyone, they have to “fix” themselves, and it is okay to give yourself permission not to continue in these unhealthy patterns. It is exhaustive trying to be everything for everyone. Your tank will remain empty, your heart will remain broken, and you will always be reaching for the next bar, the next achievement, the next “fix.” Healthy relationships do not exist with two unhealthy people; unbalanced relationships are unhealthy. When you have someone who is always giving, and someone who is good at taking, the dynamic will be unhealthy, regardless of how “healthy” any one of those members feels. Trust me when I say, codependency only leads to heartache if it is not resolved. The need to be needed feels good, but that can only satisfy for so long. Learning that your worth is inherent, that you are good without sacrificing yourself and who you are, and coming to a place of trust with yourself releases you to build and maintain lasting and healthy relationships. It allows you to see that you do not need to be needed, but that you have specific giftings that allow you to touch peoples lives in healthy ways. You can still be there for people, you can still choose who and when to help, and you always have been a good person, but you do not need to continue neglecting your own needs to attempt to make and keep others happy. You deserve to be happy too. You deserve to live a life you love.

Take the free quiz below to see if you are struggling with codependency:

https://www.codependencynomore.com/codependency-quiz-2/

Suicide: what we all need to know.

If you need to talk to someone right now, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255) to speak with someone that can help, or text HELLO to 741741.

Suicide is a difficult topic to discuss. It brings up all types of feelings. Those who struggle with suicidal thoughts and ideation often feel like the world would be a better place without them. They report feeling like a burden to others and that they have no value. Many report feeling guilty that they continue to feel the way they feel, and worry about bothering others. They feel like they have no value, like their life doesn’t matter and that nothing will ever get better. This is especially true for those struggling with long-term mental illness. The people who love those with these thoughts often struggle to understand why “they can’t just get better,” or believe that, “thinking about suicide is selfish…”

Those who struggle with thoughts of suicide or suicidal behaviors/attempts often feel self-loathing, they are plagued by negative thoughts and often truly feel like they have no purpose. The pain becomes unbearable. Death becomes and option when it is more enticing than living through the constant hell inside their minds.

It is important to remind them they are NOT a burden, they are NOT unloved, and they are NOT unworthy. That we will be there for them, no conditions.

We still have a long way to go, especially within the church and mental health, but it all begins with one person having an honest conversation. Mental illness is real, and there are situations (suicide included) that people are in need of specific types of care; Mental health professionals that are trained to help and connect people with the proper resources. It is time we open a conversation and learn the facts, saving lives starts with understanding.

Suicide is the 2nd leading cause of death among the youth (ages 10-34) in our nation. The United States ranks number 27 out of all the countries for completed suicides; This includes those countries where they must report assisted suicide in their numbers. It is currently the 10th leading cause of death in the US, and there are more than two times the amount of suicides (47,173) than homicides (19,510) recorded in the span of a year.  

Suicide does not discriminate. These thoughts can creep up on anyone, and no one is exempt. There are some common risk factors, that include, but are not limited to:

·         Previous suicide attempts

·         History of substance abuse

·         Physical disability or illness

·         Losing someone close to you by suicide

·         Exposure to bullying (including cyber-bullying)

·         Having a mental health condition/illness

·         Recent death of a family member or friend

·         Access to harmful means

·         Relationship problems

·          

It is important for us to pay attention, not only to those we love, but to all those around us. People who are suicidal often do not appear suicidal to others. Suicide doesn’t have a “face.” It can be all of us. There are some “typical” warning signs which can include the following:

·         Negative view of self

·         Hopelessness and helplessness

·         Isolation

·         Aggressiveness and irritability

·         Possessing lethal means

·         Feeling like a burden

·         Drastic mood change or change in behavior

·         Frequently talking about death

·         Self-harm

·         Engaging in “risky behaviors”

·         Making funeral arrangements

·         Substance abuse

·         Making suicide threats.

If you or someone you know is struggling, please know that there is hope and there is help. You are cared for, loved, valued and cherished. The world needs you. You are important. I know that right now, in the darkness, it is difficult to see the light, but I can promise that there will be someone to walk alongside you as you look to see it again.

If you need to talk to someone right now, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-TALK (1-800-273-8255) to speak with someone that can help, or text HELLO to 741741.

We can all help. We have to know the signs for suicide, we can reach out and stay involved with friends that we know struggle or suddenly withdraw, we need to be willing to have a conversation about it, we can be direct and ask the hard questions, and if you think someone is suicidal stay with them, listen to them and take them seriously. You can help them get help by connecting them with the crisis line, or if they are in imminent danger you can call 911. It is important to remember that you are not alone, your friend or loved one (or stranger that you are trying to help) is not alone. We all want the world to be different, we just have to be willing to be the change. It starts with us. Every life matters because we all have a purpose. You are needed. You are loved. You are important.

Statistics taken from:

https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/statistics/suicide.shtml