Running with chains

Four years ago I wrote:

If you learn to run with your chains, once they are broken you'll run faster than everyone else.

This day last year I was struggling to even get out of bed each day. I could not function, I was so depressed I would sleep for 14-18 hours straight, I didn't even have the energy to eat. I would wake up at 3pm, watch tv in bed until Cody got home, he would help me shower, then we would sit on the couch until we went to bed. He would have to bring dinner home with him every night and that was usually the only meal I would eat all day. Every day was a struggle with the demons sitting on my shoulder telling me the world would be better off without me. Having to constantly battle these thoughts with reason that was so hard for me to find. I could not function. My life was a hole of darkness and despair.

Then my doctor and I found the right medication and it slowly started working. It fixed my brain chemistry. It helped me to see light and colors and meaning in my life again.

But I still have days of struggle. I have days where I have to talk myself into getting out of bed. Days I have to force myself to be active or just do a simple thing like take a shower.

And on those days I feel so aggravated and downtrodden. I'm tired of this struggle! I wish it was over and I was "cured" and 100% happy and upbeat every day! I wish that my feelings weren't so heavy to carry some days.

So today I needed that reminder. Little did my 18 year old self know that I would need to read that today. To be reminded, that one day I'll be able to run even faster than I can imagine now. One day these chains won't be so heavy and one day I'll be able to see how strong carrying them has made me.

I think about how far I have come from last year and I can't even begin to express how grateful I am that I didn't give up. That I kept running.

So I'll keep running cause one day, I'll look back again and realize I'm running even faster and doing even better and be so grateful once again that I kept running!

Letter to my youngest sister...

Everyone always writes a letter to their younger self, things that they wish they had known, things they would do differently... But I have the beautiful experience of having two younger sisters. One I could not share a ton of wisdom with while she was growing up because I was still making mistakes myself. But I feel like I can impart a bit of my learned wisdom to my youngest baby sis. So here is my open letter to all the younger girls in my life. I hope you read this and avoid my mistakes.


Dearest baby sister,

I have not always been the best example in life. I have made so many mistakes and I hope you were too young to remember a lot of them. I hope you forget all the dumb things I did and put up with and I hope you just remember this version of me. The stronger, smarter, wiser version. But part of me does hope you remember my mistakes. Remember all the things I did wrong and all the wrong turns I made in life. Remember my mistakes, not as a part of me, but as a guide for you to make better choices. If I had to walk the road that I walked, just for the sole purpose that you would not have to walk it, I would do it all over again a million times. So here is what little wisdom I have, I hope you cherish it because I went through a lot of heartache to gain it.

Don't take crap from anyone. Do not let yourself be bullied or looked down upon or ridiculed. Stand up for your choices and believe in yourself and what you are doing in life. But never become a bully yourself. When someone gives you crap, turn it into a compliment for them. When someone tries to bully you, bring them lunch or a candy bar and shower them with kindness. NEVER let how someone treats you define how you treat others.

Smile at everyone. All the time. Be happy to see your friends. Be excited when you see them in passing. Nothing will mean more to someone than a smile. Let everyone know that they are loved and cherished by you at all points in the day. But also, know your boundaries. If someone is taking too much from you, make sure you set up boundaries with them. The people who love you will listen and understand your boundaries. Only hang out with them every other week, or text them only once in a while. If you do this you can put everything into being present and not burnt out when you are around them! And if they still are draining you or causing you drama or pain, show them the door politely. Quietly step out of their life. Or just be done and walk away. The pain of losing someone is temporary compared to the lifetime scars that they might leave on you.

On the note of boundaries.... That brings me to the topic of boys....

I wish with everything in me that you stay as far away from them as possible until they are old enough to treasure your heart and love you properly. But since I cannot lock you up somewhere and throw away the key until then, here is what I want you to remember.

If a boy stands you up, leave him. If a boy is overly jealous of your time and affection, leave him. If he gets mad at you for the littlest things, leave him. If every date he takes you on ends in you crying, leave him. If he blames you for whatever you are upset with him about, leave him. If everything is your fault, leave him. If he can't say sorry when he hurts you, leave him. If he doesn't change his behavior after that sorry, leave him. If you lose friends because he is controlling, leave him. If he is controlling or possessive at all, leave him. If you feel like you are walking on eggshells around him all the time, leave him. If you spend hours on the phone trying to make things right because you laughed at the wrong man's joke, leave him. If you can't be around your family without him embarrassing you or making you spend all your time focused on him, leave him. If he pushes your boundaries, leave him. If he doesn't listen to the word no coming from your mouth, leave him. If he can't control himself when he is with you, leave him. If you can't trust him, leave him. If he pressures you to do anything you don't feel like doing, leave him. If he makes you feel like you are garbage or worthless, leave him.

Even if he leaves a flower on your doorstep the next day. Even if he leaves you a million flowers. Even if he plans a big date to romance you. Even if he says all the things that your heart will want to hear, all the sweet words that will make you want to stay every day. Please leave him.

Character flaws are not something that romance and flowers can make up for. The pain he will cause you, is not worth staying with him. His actions need to match his words. If he says sorry, he better not do it again. You need to put your foot down baby girl because you are not a rug to be walked on. Because regardless of what your heart is telling you, you do not want to be with him.

You want to be a bird that is free to fly, not one locked in a cage in fear that they make the wrong chirp and get wrath in return. You want to be encouraged and enlightened and cherished. You want to be truly loved.

Abuse is not love. Please see it for what it is. And leave. Trust me, you'll thank me one day. It is not worth the scars later on down the road for the momentary feelings you have for him.

You can wait to have sex until you are married. It is possible. I did it. I know you can to. You have to find someone who is 100% self-controlled and will not do anything with you, even if you want him to in the moment. Feelings can get strong, but know your limits and have them etched in stone. You can do it, I know you can. But also, if you fail, don't let shame or fear or guilt eat you alive. Talk to someone about it, move forward, and use it to make your testimony better. Grow from your mistakes, don't let them weigh you down.

Be strong but compassionate, be firm but pliable, be confident but soft.

Don't let the world and its harshness change who you are inside.

If you want to be funny, be funny. If you want to be soft spoken, be soft spoken. If you want to climb a mountain and ride a goat, then do it. If you want to sit at home with a book and a cup of tea, then do it. If you want to be a great person, do it by following who you are, not what Instagram or Facebook is telling you is "cool."

You will get sad sometimes... But if that sadness lasts for too long or is too much to bear, reach out. Talk to someone. Talk to me, talk to a doctor, talk to a therapist, talk to mom or dad. Take something for it if you must without shame or fear or reservation. Don't be afraid to reach out...Because it runs in our family and it is treatable. You are not meant to feel down all the time. The world should not weigh so much that your back is breaking from carrying it.

Mom is always going to be there. You may not always get along because you are more like her than you realize or sometimes want to be, but she is always there. She gets things. She listens and understands. And one day you will realize that being like her is not a bad thing. If she tells you to leave a boy or a situation or friendship, please listen. Trust me. Save yourself the time and effort. Not sure if a boy likes you, bring them around mom, she will know if they do or not.

Also know that no matter what you do or who you are, she will love you. And so will I. You could come to me as the most broken, messed up person, and I will still take you in and help you find what you need. There is nothing so bad that you could tell me that it would ever change my opinion of you.

And lastly, be real. Be honest. Be true to who you are in all aspects. Be honest with yourself and others about your shortcomings. Work to be a better person, but know that you are already a great one. If someone doesn't like you for who you are, then you do not have to be friends with them. You will find people who will fall in love with your scars and your quirks and your humor. You will find people who will embrace you and not mock you for who you are. You are never too much for the right person, you are never a burden to those that really love you. Be who you are, show your flaws, be open about what is going on with you. People will flock to your realness, they will come and find shelter under your honesty.

I love you forever, even if you choose the same path as me,
Kiki

You Are Being Quiet, Are You Okay?

You are being quiet, are you okay? You really should talk more. Get into the conversation. Why are you so quiet? You need to speak right now. Cody, you need to take your wife home cause she is tired and bored. You look bored.

All things I heard last night. And things I hear a lot. They don't bug me usually.

I don't care that I'm quiet. I don't care when people point it out. But I do care when people are abrasive about it, sometimes without realizing it.

I am quiet when I'm around people. Social interactions are not my thing. More than like two people and I start to internalize.

Nothing is wrong. I'm not trying to be rude or stuck up or mean. I just have nothing to say.

Why?

Not because I don't have words to say... But I think something and then I have to run it over in my head a couple times to make sure its okay to say, that it won't upset or offend someone. I wanna make sure its taken the right way, and said with the right grammar. I want to make sure you understand what I'm trying to convey...

And by the time I have something perfected in my head, we are three topics down the road and it doesn't matter anymore.

So I quit trying to reply to conversations, I just listen. And I'm content listening. Cause its better that way, I'm not all up in my head freaking out about the three things I missed while I was taking 5 minutes to respond to your first thought.

Please know I'm not being rude, and if I am, just tell me. I don't have to speak to be having a good time.

Most of the time I am trying to calm my racing thoughts... Because there are too many things going on.

Last night for example, there were two conversations going on at once the whole night, I'm getting caught in the middle. I can't keep up with both, and talk, and try not to have an anxiety attack...

My husband got to witness my first outward anxiety attack around him the other night. And it did not make me feel good. Usually I hide when I'm having one, or I can talk myself out of it. But not this time.

See we were talking about something very important to us both and I was crying and not the pretty cry either...the I've been holding this in for months while you've been gone cry, where snot is running down your face and every inch of your face and neck is wet. Well when that happens to me, my nose stuffs up and I cannot breathe through it. And bam. Anxiety attack. Freaking out. Hyperventilating. Can't think. Can't breathe. Panic that I can't breathe. Can't breathe even more. What if I die? I am dying. I can't breathe. I need to move. What will help me? I don't know. Can't think. Something has to help. Do something you are dying! You stupid idiot you should not be dealing with this in front of your husband. Hide. Now. Breathe. Hide then breathe. No only breathe. Deal with him later. Breathe damn it. Breathe. Now. I need air.

My husband is a fixer. He has to fix a problem. He has to have a solution. "What can I do?" I didn't know what to tell him.

I don't even know what to tell me.

So he starts playing me a song and singing to me. My favorite song and his voice. He was being himself. And it helped. It gave me something else to focus on. I could calm down enough to breathe again.

But I was so embarrassed, it is demeaning. To literally not be able to control your own mind and thoughts.

You don't want people to witness when your inner demons get a hold of you too tightly.

You feel weak.

And powerless.

And completely drained.

And that's what I'm trying to avoid when I'm being quiet. The panic. The uncontrollable fits. The spasms.

Because I don't want people thinking any less of me. I don't want people thinking that I'm any less of a person. Or that something is wrong with me.

And what I want least of all is the pity.

I don't want your pity. But I want your understanding.

And not just for me.

I want you to be aware that the people around you might be struggling with the same things. I want you to know that being quiet doesn't mean someone is upset always. I want you to know what its like on our end so that you can help the person in your life who is like me.

And I want you to know, if you are like me, you are not alone. You are not a freak of nature. You are perfectly normal. There is nothing wrong with you. Let me say that again... There. Is. Nothing. Wrong. With. You. This is all your sickness talking.

So to those who don't deal with this, I don't share for sympathy. I share so you can help someone else in your life.

And those who do deal with this, I share so you can have a voice when you cannot speak for yourself.

And to those dolls out there (Nicole, this was you...) who get it and help me through it and don't expect anything more or less of me, thank you. Its not enough what you do for me. But I love you for it.

Be brave my lovelies. And be quiet if you must. And don't worry if you aren't speaking. You do you. The rest of the world might understand one day.

You Will Not Control Me Today

There was a time when I was under the impression that my thoughts were normal.

That freaking out to a crazy extent was actually something that people did on a regular basis.

It wasn't until I hit the lowest of lows in my depression that my anxiety level hit a nasty high and I realized, this was not normal.

Looking back on it now, I can see all the signs. But then I did not know what to look for.

Driving to youth group and not being able to breathe, feeling your chest tighten beneath you...just because you had to walk through the door.

Being lost in the store because I literally could not talk to an employee without feeling like I was going to black out.

Heart racing over going into a new restaurant, or one I had been to a million times. Heart racing over the fact that I was meeting someone for the first time. Heart racing because I had to be alone.

And this week, I realized that this started when I was really, really young...

I remember watching a cartoon about this girl who got kidnapped and then her dad found her blah blah blah... Most normal kids would be like okay like one bad dream and it is over.

I spent months being terrified that everyone was going to kidnap me.
I had what I now know as an anxiety attack in a horse carriage because I was sitting by the open door and all I could see was someone reaching in to snatch me.
Months. Months of strangers causing me so much fear I could not breathe. Months of not leaving my parents side. Months of nightmares and not being able to fall asleep because there was someone waiting outside for me to fall asleep so they could grab me. Even after my parents figured out that something was wrong and talked to me about it, I still could not shake the fear.

Crying hysterically all of the sudden in children's church because you are suddenly convinced that your uncle died in Iraq. Or when you have a new children's pastor and they invite you to bring your favorite toy to church next week for a show and tell...and you are fine until it is your turn and then all of the sudden, even though you know everyone in the room, you can't talk and you just sit there crying unable to move. And not being able to be comforted by the children's pastor because you don't know her and it scares you that she wants to hug you so you just start shaking because you are terrified.

Paralyzing fear.

Not just normal little kid fear.

This was big.

But you know, as a kid you don't know how to tell anyone about this.

And it isn't like my parents knew what was going on... There isn't a handbook on parenthood.

And if I am just now realizing what all this stuff was...Cannot blame them for not knowing either.

It is silly things, like roll call in college, and finding a new class room, or group projects, that would make me literally freeze in my tracks, that tell me now what was going on.

Anxiety.

And then when my depression hit an all time low, it reared its nasty head and made itself known.

And it was the most freeing experience of my life.

Okay not so much at the time...

My first panic attack, literally the worst experience of my life. I was convinced I was dying.

But it also helped me to get help for it. It helped me to figure out that, wow these thoughts are not normal, this is not normal.

Freedom comes when you can finally tell yourself, this is your sickness talking, it is not real.

And even though I have found freedom, it doesn't make it any easier.

There are still days that I sit and cannot leave my house. The thought of walking to my door and turning the handle is too much for me. There are days when I have to force myself to get up and get out. For dumb reasons like, that day I happen to be convinced that I am going to get mugged and raped if I open the door.

Two months I had no communication with my husband. Terrifying honestly. But I made it through okay, until the last week when I didn't get an email and everyone else did it seemed like. Normal people think thoughts like, well maybe it didn't come through, maybe he is busy, he is probably working really long hours. But no, not me. I spent the entire week in fear that my husband has died, or punched someone and got in trouble, or went mentally crazy and is locked up in a room, or he decided to bat for the other team and doesn't know how to tell me, or maybe he decided that he just didn't love me anymore and he wanted me out of his house when he got home, or maybe he lost all his memory and could no longer remember that he was married...  Not normal thoughts, especially considering how much my husband loves me. But these were literally my paralyzing fears that I had to talk myself down from every time I checked my email and had nothing waiting in my inbox.

This is not normal.

And that is okay.

Because now I know it is not normal.

And now I know that I can fight it.

This last week I went to a brand new sit down restaurant by myself. And then I went to the bookstore by myself. And then I went to the beach by myself.

And let me tell you, that was the biggest moment for me... I was so proud of myself for conquering my fears in those moments. I might have hid behind my book at the bar, but I didn't stop breathing when a guy asked me to move down. I might have not looked up once from my book at the beach, but I still sat there alone for an hour.

I did it.

And I have to celebrate the winnings because I feel like I lose a lot more than I win. But I cannot focus on the losses. I have to focus on the moments when I take my disease by the throat and scream:

"You will not control me today."

Love, Kiki

Why I put on makeup at 10pm to clean my house...

Here it is, holiday weekend... And all I can think about is, #$*( I hate holidays!! Traffic sucks... I don't wanna do anything cause there are like ten million other people that are gonna have the same idea as me... And did I mention traffic?? On top of the fact that I used to celebrate with my family and that is just super depressing honestly.

I get home at 9:30pm, to a messy house. Great way to kick off the weekend right?

Now when I say messy, I mean that I have three bags of fast food trash on my floor, two eaten off of plates of food, about four different crochet projects going on the floor, along with about 35 different balls of yarn in the mix, my mail from the last week and a half, opened and flown everywhere... I have clothes that I need to wash laying around the washer and spilling into the doorway and the kitchen... I have half my closet laying on the floor of my bedroom, and all my makeup is flown across the bathroom with a huge fan on the floor cause it was SO hot the other day I was trying to actually get ready. Oh yeah, and don't forget all the shopping that I have done in the last week...all that is all over the floor as well... And don't even bring up all my online purchases that I also laying around. Yeah... It is bad. And I need to clean it.

But I just look at it and get soooooo overwhelmed... This is like a week of mess...and it is this bad?? How are you such a mess?? If hubby was home it wouldn't look like this? Get your life together. You think this is how you should be doing right now??

.........My mind is my biggest road block for keeping my life on track...

Do you ever feel that way? That if you could just stop beating yourself up for something for like 10 minutes you could probably actually make progress in that area? If you could just feel good in your skin for a week you could actually eat healthy and work out? That if you stopped thinking that you were doing poorly you could have more energy to do better??

Me. Everyday.

So after 30 minutes of sitting on the floor avoiding cleaning... I decided to make a crazy decision...

I put on some sexy music. You know the kind that you can dance to and shake your booty to, the songs that make you feel like you are the sexiest thing on the planet? That good stuff. As loud as I could get away with at 10pm...

And then I put on makeup. Whatever colors I wanted... What would make me feel sexy? That is what I put on... Gold. And pink. Even though I don't wear that stuff on a normal day... Or any makeup for that matter... But I wanted to <<< feel >>> sexy.

Why?

Because self health starts with self.

It starts with  looking in the mirror and learning to love yourself.

Even if your house is still a mess. Even if you are still a mess.

Love where you are at... And if it takes putting on a bit of crazy makeup at 10pm...do it. Right now.

If it takes dancing to some sexy music all by yourself, then do that.

If it takes wearing a dress to work, or school, or the grocery store, do that.

If it takes reading a book for ten minutes, do that.

You feel better after a bubble bath? Take one.

Take care of yourself... The rest of your life will follow.

Body positive starts with your thoughts.

You have to think you are beautiful.

And guess what, my house is gonna get cleaned tonight. Because I feel better about myself. Because I can feel sexy dancing to my music sweeping my house and doing the laundry. 

Because I took care of myself, my self-image, I can better take care of my house, my life, my problems.

#BodyPositive #LoveYourself

It's happening again...

The darkness.

It is coming.

I hate that I spend all my time running from everything and then boom. I run right back into it.

The darkness comes when you least expect it. It creeps in and then suddenly you are covered again.

I just keep telling myself that it isn't as bad as last time.....yet.... I am still getting out of bed...

It might be at 11am again.... But at least I am getting out of bed.

See, depression is a balancing act.

It is a fine line between being proud of yourself for the small things and yet finding energy to push yourself further up.

I know that I can't stay here. I know that I have to fight to be better... I know I need to wake up and get out of the house and move around and be active. I know these things. And sometimes knowing them makes me hate myself.

I know what I have to do, but I still don't do it. I still don't get out of bed early. I still don't eat the right foods, I still don't leave the house.

I know what I should do to avoid falling in the hole again... But the darkness drains my energy.

And sleeping is the best way to forget that I miss my husband. Or that I haven't spoken to him in over a month... Or that I am completely alone on this dumb stupid rock of an island. Or that we are having car problems and I don't know what to do because my husband is gone and they are way too big of decisions to make without him. I just want to pretend that none of it exists.

So I sleep. And watch tv. And crochet. And order pizza.

Totally normal reaction to all the crap around me.

Except for me.

These are my bad reactions. These are my warning signs. These are things that I avoid...

But I don't have energy to fight the darkness right now. I just don't.

And to be honest, that scares me.

I don't want to be where I was again. I don't want to be so paralyzed by this disease that I cannot do anything.

It is hard not to hate yourself for feeling this way. It is hard not to feel like a failure.

And I cannot let myself feel like a failure. Because when I feel like a failure, that is when the darkness takes over.

So I am praising myself for the small things... Like taking a shower, or a romantic bath, or feeding myself more than once a day, or texting someone back, or getting out of bed...

I have to be proud of the small things.

And I have to remember that I am not fighting myself.

This is a disease.

It is not something that I caused. It is not something that I control. It is not something that I can just make stop.

It is a disease. There is something wrong in my brain.

This is not a choice I made.

This is a disease.

I am fighting a disease.

Love, Kiki

Grace like a wave...

Grace comes like a wave / crashing over me / 
grace comes like a wave / crashing over and over and over.....

Grace Like a Wave ~by Elevation Worship.

As I am in the car this week I start listening to this song because it was on my most suggestions list on Spotify... And my first thought is... Do they really know what it is like for a wave to keep crashing into you??

Living in Hawaii has given me a unique opportunity to experience waves like you have never seen before. I can't find a video on YouTube to show exactly how bad the waves can get, but this one comes pretty close...

As you can tell....The waves don't quit. And you get knocked out really fast if a wave hits you wrong. You are flat on your backside, drowning in water with sand literally everywhere. The first time it happened to me that a wave hit me that hard, it flipped me over about 3 times, each time bashing my head into the sand. You can think of nothing other than trying to figure out how to reach oxygen again and which way is up. And if you don't get your footing quick another wave will be right behind it waiting to swallow you again. You are literally overwhelmed with the wave, you can think of nothing else... They are paralyzing.

Can you imagine being stuck in a loop of waves, unable to think of anything else but wave after wave, sand and water and sky all rolled into one?

Grace.

Like a wave...

If you have ever been caught in a wave like I am describing you will have an memory of what it is like...

Now imagine if that is how you viewed grace...

Over and over and over again, smashing into with so much force it swept you off your feet, flung you head over heels multiple times, and took every bit of thought of anything else.

Grace. That just keeps coming. Whether you ask it to or not.

Grace. That is so paralyzing, nothing else in the universe matters.

Let me tell you why the thought of grace is so hard for me.

Perfectionism.

The end. That is all I have to say. I am a perfectionist. Everything about me has to be done right and with the exact amount of precision and finesse. I must be perfect in all things at all times without fail.

Now let me tell you why that is impossible.

Depression.

I cannot be perfect when I am struggling with depression.

Yes, thanks to medication, the sun is shining again. But I still have bad days.

Days that still consist of me laying on the couch and sleeping almost all day cause I am tired and life sucks. Days that have no light and no matter what I do, the room is still foggy. Days that feelings of hopelessness creep in and I am left with the thought, "I am completely useless to this world, I should just rid it of myself." Thoughts that are so dark that I cannot share them because I will scare everyone away. There are days where the darkness still steals everything from me and I cannot cope.

I was having one of those days when I was listening to this song.

I had great plans to get so much done, and I literally did not get any of it done.

Depression steals the motivation and ability to be perfect. You cannot be perfect when your life is a disaster zone waiting to happen 24/7.

Imagine with me a small apartment, when you first walk in you see a table and beyond that a couch with a sliding door behind it that lets in a beautiful view of Hawaii and lots of sun light. Now imagine that you walk into that apartment everyday to it being clean and beautiful and full of joy. And every day you find your wife on the couch or in the kitchen...

Then imagine one day the curtain is closed and the room and the house is dark. You have bags upon bags upon bags of fast food laying on the floor...you don't find your wife in any room of the house... So you check the dark bedroom...

You find her laying there, in the clothes you left her in that morning, not showered, barely waking up at 5pm...

Imagine you have to coax her to the bathroom, help her into the shower, wash her hair, help her put clean clothes on (ones you will find her in again tomorrow...), and then help her to the couch where you have another bag of fast food waiting for her because you are tired after work and taking care of her and don't have the energy to cook for both of you. You know that this is the first and only time she will eat today. You cuddle up with her even though she can barely respond to your touch, and play a show on Netflix. And then you fall asleep and do it all again the next day, praying as you kiss her goodbye that your wife doesn't have an episode while you are at work and you come home to a dead wife.

Imagine if that was your life day in and day out for months on end...

I don't really remember how long it was that bad... The days are too blurry...

But if that was your life, your wife, your marriage... What would you do?

Would you still bring her home flowers? Would you still want to do special things for her? Would you still have the love for her that you used to have?

Or would you yell and scream and demand she get up and clean the house? Would you lose patience with her awful stench every time you came home from work? Would you require dinner be on the table and she be waiting with a kiss?

Can you imagine the sadness that you would feel, every single day that you walked in and saw your wife in bed? Could you imagine the fear that would grip your heart hoping she is still alive because you don't hear anything? Can you feel the hopelessness you would feel if that was you knowing that you could do nothing to help?

And imagine doing it, day after day after day.....after day....

And never saying anything to shame your wife. Never complaining about doing your own laundry. Never complaining about the messy state of your house. Never saying anything about how gross her hair looked or how you were tired of doing everything for her.

Having so much love, each and every day, that you would walk in with a new kiss and complete devotion for the woman who could give you nothing in return.

I imagine that is what God's grace is like. Each and every day He walks into our life and sees us in the same mess, and He picks us up, cleans us off, feeds us, and makes sure we have a fresh start for tomorrow.

He walks in every single day, and I am sure that His heart breaks that I haven't made any progress in my life, that I seem to be in the same place He left me last, a little more stinky and a lot more beaten down.

And everyday He greets us with a kiss and more grace and says, "It is okay. I've got this."

Grace. Like a wave...

Over and over and over and over and over...

I have experienced this in human form... I can only imagine the magnitude of God's grace is like...

Never screaming, always patient, always wanting the best for us but never leaving us if we just can't make it there today.

May grace like a wave crash over you today, remembering that God will always come home. And no matter if you are cooking dinner in the kitchen with a clean house or still stuck in the bedroom with the lights off and your pajamas still on... He still loves you.

Love, Kiki

This is an illness that I did not ask for...

Healing.

For the last year of my life I have been living in a shell of myself. I have been living under demons and darkness that I cannot begin to describe to you. It has been my own personal version of hell. And I am surprised that I am still here honestly. I am surprised that I am still alive and living to tell you my tale.

I grew up in a very traditional Christian church. Sinning is bad, God hates sins, you must repent or you won't go to heaven, make sure you pray for God to forgive you every night in case you die in your sleep. I learned that all my problems had to be solved by praying and reading the Bible. If I was sad, I must not be in God's Word enough, here is a scripture that will fix how you are feeling. Are you anxious? Well you must have more faith in God, because the Bible says that is wrong.

No one ever told me these things out loud, but the messages were clear. "I am going through a really rough time." "Oh well then let me pray with you." Pray, cry a little, pretend to feel better cause God instantly made you happy again, go about pretending that was the magic prayer that healed everything.

Don't get me wrong, I love God and I love praying. But it is not a vending machine of Happy Meals that put a smile on your face and make everything peachy keen again.

When I hit my depression, I literally didn't talk to anyone about it. Because they would think that I wasn't trusting God enough. That I wasn't praying and reading my Bible or having a "good enough" relationship with Christ.

If someone in the church has cancer, do we simply pray and expect that to be the end of it? Do we think that the struggle will instantly be over once a prayer is said and a verse is shared? No! We pray for peace of mind and healing for them and when that prayer is over we offer support and help and love. We bring food and help clean and try to be helpful in that person's life. We encourage them to see a doctor and get treatment and stay by their side when that treatment kicks their butt.

So why is it different with mental illness?

Why do we treat this differently? Is it because you can't see my side effects? Is it because you think that it can be solved with a little bit of Jesus and some holy water?

Don't get me wrong, a little bit of Jesus goes a LONG way!!

But you wouldn't shame someone for having cancer... So why do you shame them for depression, anxiety disorders, bi-polar, etc.??

This is an illness. And I did not ask for it.

And trust me, I have BEGGED God time and time again to take this away from me. Do you think that I want to feel this way? Do you think that I want to wrestled this on a daily basis?

In the same way that I would never ask for cancer I would never ask for depression or anxiety.

They are an illness.

And I have started referring to them as such.

My illness.

My illness.

Illness.

Depression is an illness.

It is just as real as a broken bone and no less your fault or completely up to you to fix.

You didn't ask for it. You can't stop it.

Yes, you can pray about it. No, that won't necessarily fix it.

This might be the thorn in your side that you will have to carry the rest of your life.

You may ask God to take it away every single day until you die.

And He might, but He might not.

It is genetic. It is triggered by things outside of yourself. You did not cause it. You cannot magically fix it. It cannot be ignored.

If you are on medication and a Christian, there is a huge blanket of shame over you. A HUGE blanket of shame.

One that I am peeking my head out from underneath.

I am trying to be open.

Yes, I have a mental illness.

I have been diagnosed with Severe Depression and was put on Prozac to help me cope. This triggered my anxiety into hyperactive mode causing me to also have a standing prescription for Xanax.

These are illnesses. They are not something that I caused. They are not something that I asked for. They are simply a fact in my life. It is no different than me saying that I have cancer, or a broken bone, or am diabetic.

I have come to terms with the fact that I will be dealing with this for the rest of my life. I will be fighting the battle against my mental illness for a long while.

And this is nothing to be ashamed of.

I have not let down God. I have not disappointed Him. I have not sinned by taking medication. I have not fallen from grace because I chose to get help more than praying and reading my Bible.

God made my brain.

He knows that it can be flawed.

He knows that something is not right in the cellular structure.

He has given science the knowledge to help me survive.

This is an illness. I did not ask for it. I wish I did not have it.

But it is just an illness. It does not define me.

It is not my fault.