Thank you to everyone who texted me to know if I have officially gone off my rocker and been admitted to the funny farm. I have not. And when I realized you kind folks hadnt seen my message before I deactivated my account and all the texts came in (and I do not have unlimited texts on Ye Olde Trac Phone), I figured Id better put my post back up and now, I post with this explanation. So, forgive the serious nature of this post: Facebook is generally my go-to place for relaxation and connection and not a bit of an escape from the craziness of life. I go to continue the connections of cherished old friends, laugh at the crazy stories of new friends, to smile at forgotten memories, to write my own memories and crazy stories, to be educated, to be inspired and very often to be reminded to pray. When facebook is this. It is very good. Of late, it has been a place of anger, a place where I am constantly reminded that there is evil in this world that seems overwhelming, and I am helpless to do anything about it. I feel dejected at my government and believe that it is corrupt on both sides of the political aisle, I find myself arguing with fellow Christians on the nature of worship, fellow Catholics on the politics of my pope, and even fellow pro-lifers on matters of local issues. I found myself jealous of a life that is not mine and resentful of the blessings that I should be relishing. I found myself hurt by past grievances. And sometimes, because of the nature of facebook, when these past hurts popped up on my news feed (particularly this week), I found myself not as detached as I ought to be. When facebook became this, (for me). It was very bad. In a sense facebook is also my blog. A place where I can share a situation or a funny story. Humor and satire are my genre. Its my defense against these hurts and petty jealousies. But, my humor is, intentionally self deprecating. I pray, however that my sarcasm or humor has never hurt anyone. I try to be honest but in the witty banter I so love on facebook, as with teaching , I hope I always remember to build up the dignity of the human person and never tear anyone down. If I failed in this regard, I sincerely apologize. I dearly miss being a classroom teacher. And this year away from teaching as been very difficult. And for folks who suggested I get a job in the public schools where I could undoubtedly make more money, its not where I believe I am called to be. I am a religion teacher, a Catholic school teacher. And I am a Catholic school religion teacher who sort of philosophically gels best with homeschoolers. . . whose kids attend the public school. Which makes me an odd duck in just about every circle I find myself. Without going into details, this has always been a source of pain and sometimes that pain is a little bit sharper and the cross a little bit heaver. So, when this cross became a bit heavier and facebook stopped being that place of relaxation, I decided I needed to pray a bit more. So, thus was why I needed to go off facebook, But having to explain myself via texts or emails or by phone calls was still taking time away from the marching orders at hand, I thought maybe, I should share my struggles. . .even if its not funny. . .And I wont be insulted if you dont read. And I am NOT complaining. Because, remember, I suffer in silence ;) So here is some of what is on my heart and maybe you can understand or maybe you can pray or maybe you can find that you also have a friend in this valley of tears. 1. My husband is probably the smartest man I have ever met. His intellect is formidable. He has traveled all over the place installing surveillance equipment and doing other engineering things. He has also had a back back since I have known him. But for the last six years, he has worked in chronic pain. Hes had fusion surgeries with rods placed in his back and they have helped a bit. He has muddled through because he knows he has to provide for his wife and six kids. But in the last six years, the pain has forced him to work at a desk job that he hates in a special chair. Six months ago he had a computerized stimulator put in his spine and a battery placed under his skin in his lower back. For the first time in six years, he has been relatively pain free, without any pain medication, and he even started back on his Masters degree in robotics. About a month ago, his body started rejecting the foreign objects. It looks like we are facing another surgery to remove the only thing that has brought him any relief. So, this wifes heart is breaking, and this too is part of both his cross and mine. And so I can only pray; Thy will be done. But right now, those are the four hardest words to say. 2. My oldest child has Aspergers Syndrome. He doesnt like wearing shirts with buttons. He walks with an odd gait. Hes obsessed with football. He knows every detail about every player on every team. He likes the Packers because his dad likes the Cowboys and his mom (dont laugh) likes the Jets. In his subconscious, I think he picked the Packers because it was a geographically neutral football team. But he doesnt go to football games. He doesnt go to homecoming dances. He doesnt get invitations to hang out. And so. . . .Its very hard to see pictures on facebook of kids my sons age going to football games and homecoming dances. Anyway, about two months ago, he finally got up the courage to walk into a place of employment and get a job. I was very proud when he got a job at McDonalds. But for the last three weeks they havent given him any hours. His name is on the schedule, so he hasnt been fired. Hes 17. I cant find out why. HE has to. This mothers heart is breaking, but this too is part of both his cross and mine. And so I can only pray; Thy will be done. And right now those are the four hardest words to say. 3. And another child has been getting into trouble. Not serious trouble. But enough that he has detention. And he deserves what he gets. Hes on ADHD meds. And yes, he needs ADHD meds. And no, I dont want strangers, acquaintances, dear friends or family sending me links about this study or that study as to why this is a bad idea or even a good idea. Because you know what, it is what it is. And hes not a bad kid. Hes a wise ass. But, I got a call from his Latin teacher and another call from the guidance counselor last week. . .and I didnt return the calls. I just didnt. Because I forgot to give my third born child his ADHD meds. And because I dont have an excuse and I know what they are going to say because its the exact same call I would say as a teacher about how he needs to control his outbursts and how he cant be the class clown. And its not only the same call I would make as a teacher to a parent, but its the exact same call my parents used to get about me because my third born son is a carbon copy of me. Except hes got my husbands brains and my wit and unfortunately, my mouth. And so hes on meds because he needs meds and when I see facebook lectures about how ADHD meds are merely crutches for poor parenting, and kids who live on video games. . .I say, come walk a mile in my. . .nay, jump a mile on my crazy pogo stick. And because I forgot to give him his meds, he may not be able to try out for wrestling which is the sport my son excels at because he has a two hour detention during tryouts. And what I WANT to tell the Latin teacher and the Guidance Counselor is what perhaps I COULD tell a teacher in a Catholic school is that my son really is a good kid; a kid who kneels by his bed to pray for things when no one is looking. This is the kid who asked to be an altar boy. . . but did so quietly. . . around his fathers church (non-Catholic) schedule, who has more volunteer hours than any other 8th grader I know. This is the kid who stands up in his public school and challenges those who mock his faith and will always stand up for the underdog. And I failed this kid. This mothers heart is breaking, And so I can only pray; Thy will be done. And right now those are the four hardest words to say. 4. And there is all the other stuff. . . THAT ALL of us go through. . . All the other stuff we ALL deal with in our daily lives. The minor crosses, the petty stuff. The stuff we should be thankful for and not complaining about because THESE are the things that should make us realize that we ought be grateful to be living in a country (corrupt though it may be) with modern medicine and healthy children and beds with clean sheets (well relatively clean sheets). . .this is the stuff that sometimes facebook distracts us from. I had once written on my friends facebook why I was on facebook because we all seek communion. We seek a community. And that is still true. When I had an infestation of mice last year, I had to write on facebook about wanting the priest who blessed my house to rebless my house because after we killed 21 mice, I was ready to move. If I didnt write, I would have gone insane. I needed to laugh and connect with people who could talk me off my mental ledge. I remember literally, laying in bed one night listening to the sound of scratching as I contemplated packing a suitcase and running away from my family; at that moment. Just hightailing it out of town. Jason slept soundly. When I asked him HOW he could do so; he and said he found the scratching peaceful. I wanted to bludgeon him with a spork. (We didnt have any clean silverware because the dishwasher was broken because a dead mouse was in the grinder of the dishwasher and it was preventing the dishes from becoming clean so we were using plastic utensils from taco bell). (I didnt. . . cause Im holy like that, what with not breaking the killing Commandment). And when I have had other children who argue with each other and FIGHT from the other side of a locked bathroom door as I sit in the oval office. I HAVE to write about this because I need a community to share this with, because I would have been in the funny farm long ago. Sometimes I get letters passed under the door of the bathroom telling me I am running away from home because It was my turn on the computer and you dont care. And they would be right. I dont care that it was her turn on the computer. She didnt run away though. She couldnt find her shoes. But maybe she didnt run away because I didnt run away despite the scratching in my attic. When James was a toddler, I had to lecture him on the benefits of a nap despite the fact that I havent slept since Bush was in office. I needed a community. For those times when I forgone delicious meals and opted instead for a boiled piece of chicken and steamed collared greens so that I can wear a pair of pants that did not contain elastic in the waist. Or maternity clothes despite not having been pregnant in 8 years. . .but still have a few pairs of maternity pants at the tender age of 44. . .because. . .well, just in case I need an AMEN from the peanut gallery. And for those times when I have eaten some chips and then was forced to wear the said elastic maternity pants (despite not being pregnant) because the chips contained contained salt and it made me retain more water than my bathtub. . .that I have never used for the same reasons that I do not enjoy executive privileges when in my oval office. For this I seek my dearly beloved Facebook Community. So, my dearly beloved facebook community.. . right now, I need my Communion of Saints. . . and so I pray. I wont deactivate my account. (I cant afford the Trac Phone Minutes from you folks asking if Ive taking a long walk off a short pier) But I do need to prioritize and prayeritize my life at the moment. It wont be long. Life is too short to be taken too seriously.
Posted on: Sun, 16 Nov 2014 18:17:17 +0000
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