Inside Out

+ JMJ +

Although I haven’t seen the movie “Inside Out”, it is on my list to see. Having different emotions cartoon’ified is a pretty awesome idea. If it was executed the way I wanted, I’d get to see the different feelings and how to cope with them, but… this is a cartoon and that’s a little too deep. Cummon—there can’t be another Toy Story out there. 😉

Let’s be Honest…

I’m a dramatic person…sometimes. If you know me very well, then it could be all the time. My kind of drama doesn’t crown me the queen of it, though. Well… some may think it does. Anyways, this past week I wanted to take a course online to help me on my career path, BUT… sigh… it was too expensive and I would have had to gather the money the day I found out about it ($865 or potentially 5k). Nope not going to happen. It frustrated me beyond belief.

That evening, I got into a discussion with my roommate, Jessie. We began to have a discourse as to what I was going to do with my life. A few lines in, I discovered I have a “negative mantra” that I repeat over and over that seems to put me into a downward spiral. I say… “I don’t know.” I say it when I’m feeling bad/sad/generally upset and I want to talk about it, but don’t want to talk about it—don’t want to face my feelings or even see the positivity in a situation. This isn’t all the time. In fact, it’s so sparse that this was the first time Jessie witnessed it and we’ve roomed together for 8 months.

Three Little Words

Why do I say those words, “I don’t know”? I think it’s because I’m compacting all my emotions inside of me-I don’t won’t anyone to be pulling any of my switches in the control panel (“Inside Out”), but that doesn’t mean they don’t. I get sad and despondent—when it gets that bad. Jessie dragged me out of that state and “knocked” some sense in my head. (She made sure I wrote knocked, because it needed some hard hitting.)


While having that interventional conversation, she pointed out that this was merely a situation. She suggested that when I enter into that state of despondency, I should distract myself, because if it’s situational, the situation will change. (My cousin, Kathy, echoed that when we were Facebook messaging). I continued saying, “I don’t know,” during our session, but she began throwing things at me at each occurrence of those three little words escaping my mouth. Soon, I began to catch myself even before she launched a Taco Bell sauce packet at me. I bit my lip and laughed.

Fixin’ to

After talking to her, she made me realize I’m not alone with my negative mantra. Other people do it, too. Some people just say, “I can’t.” I say, “I don’t know.”

I’m taking Jessie’s words to heart, at least I’m going to try to do so. It will be something of which I need to remind myself. My life’s been kind of dreary these past eight months. Yet, Jessie’s advice is good and solid. It’s something I need to apply inside so those three little words don’t get outside.

Let me know!

Hey! Let me know what you think! Comment here or if you see this on Facebook, you can do it there. I want some input and if you have questions, ask! I’d be more than happy to answer them.

+ Pax + | KK


To Be is to Love

+ JMJ +

Tomorrow is the 15th anniversary of my maternal grandmother’s death. What always comes to mind around this time of year are the memories of her life, how I was included and how I was impacted. Another thing that comes to mind every year, are the days leading up to her passing.

Anyone can understand that the loss of a loved one is the hardest part of life—even if they haven’t lost someone themselves. However, no one, whether they have or not, can ever quite find the words to console those that are mourning.

Friend Amongst Strangers

As a 9th grade homeschool student, I went to a weekly Christian co-op to take a Spanish class. This took place the semester before my grandmother’s passing and was the first that I attended. There were a lot of new faces and being a new kid in any school is a little nerve-racking. However, one of the new faces was a girl named, Paula. She had a very peaceful aura and was the first to reach out to me. We saw each other weekly from September to mid-December as we learned our newly discovered language. Towards the end of the semester we began to frequently talk to each other on the phone—for hours. 😛

At the beginning of the new year, my grandmother’s health began to fail. During this time, I was abandoned by my best friend due to the fact they found it too hard to be around someone in that state in life. This was very hard, as I’m sure you can imagine. My mother hurt for me not having someone there to support me.

The conversations with Paula began to become more frequent as I had no one else to whom I could turn. As my grandmother’s health continued to grow worse and my family knew she was close to the end, Paula discerned that she could be a great deal of help to me. She asked her mother if she could come stay with me. And it was then that I discovered the power of “being”.

The Art of a “Being” Human

I’m going to jump ahead a little bit. I’m not exactly sure the day, month, year, but my mom discovered this thing called “Affirmation Therapy.” “…it is a way of “being” with a person as opposed to “doing” something to or for her. Affirmation therapy can be formally described as a way of being affectively present to another human person in a therapeutic relationship in which the therapist reveals to the client his or her intrinsic goodness and worth. Affirmation is a profound way of being with someone that should not be mistaken for a set of simplistic techniques such as giving a pat on the back or a superficial compliment.” When we learned this and we reveled in the gloriousness of it, we looked back on the person who did it best—even though they didn’t know they were doing it.

They were Paula.


When my grandmother lay dying in her bed, I sat on the couch beside her. I sat with Paula. She didn’t do anything. She didn’t talk to me. Most people would look at this as say, “Well, yeah. Of course she didn’t have anything to say, she was a 16 year old. What kind of sage advice would she have?” As I said before, most people don’t know what to say—no matter what their age is. But my point here is: she didn’t have to. She didn’t have to say a word. And she was more than comfortable with not having that ability. She had something greater to give. Presence. She was “being” with me. She was letting me feel my emotions. She wasn’t trying to tell me words to “fix” me. It’s almost unexplainable. I just leaned on her and cried.  We did sing worship music and prayed with my grandmother. But for the most part, I just sat there. She just sat there. It was enough.

To Be or Not To Be

This world is going going going. No one sits with people anymore without “doing”. It’s so hard to “be” in this constant state of motion. To live the affirmed life “means learning to “be present to everything in creation” and learning how to live in a more quiet and unhurried manner.” Paula showed me, as part of God’s creation, that I was worth “being” present with. She was quiet. She was unhurried. She was content with not having words to speak. She was exactly what I needed.

We all have trials in our lives with which we need people there to support us. Some of those trials cannot be consoled with words. This power. This power of “being”. Of being allowed to feel those emotions that come on so strongly. Of being able to not be shut down for feeling sad. Of being able to be present with someone without them feeling as if they need to “fix” you. Harness it, my friends. Wield this power. Those you love will be forever grateful you did.

+ Pax + | KK


“You don’t know what I suffer!”


Oh, how I love the BBC’s Pride and Prejudice. Alison Steadman gives an unprecedented performance of Mrs. Bennet-quite the drama queen herself.

This start to “To Suffer For Souls” is just an opening line into the trials I’ve encountered and will continue to encounter as life is just life. It’s no surprise that I’ve been through struggles, because, you know as well as I, we’re human and that’s what happens as long as we’re breathing. (maybe even more so after we stop if we don’t make proper choices!) But that being said, that’s not the end to that statement.

What do I suffer?

My response to that would be another question, “Why do I suffer?” I do, because “I longed to suffer for souls as Christ had done, so that some day they might be with Him forever.” (The Little Flower | THE STORY OF SAINT THERESE OF THE CHILD JESUS – Mary Fabyan Windeatt) That line I found highlighted in my book I read at age 10. I found it when I was 18ish (don’t remember my exact age) as I was preparing for a talk  at a women’s retreat on “Conquering Suffering through Love”.

As I prepared for that retreat, I prayed of course, but also reflected on all my past before the suffering started. It was reflecting back quite a bit, because the struggles began at age 11/12. It was true I did long to suffer. Why? Because I knew that suffering does not have to go without merit. I was a child-a child so madly in love with Jesus. I delved into the lives of the saints and there was something that they all had in common, they suffered. Life’s not easy. And they didn’t try to take an easy way out. They put on their cross and listened to Christ as He said, “Come follow Me.”

Okay. So, WHAT do I suffer?

The year or so after I told the Lord I longed to suffer, I started into an uncomfortable state-the state I found out years later was depression. This was not what I expected. I thought I would get tuberculous or cancer or something-something I was a little bit more familiar with as an illness-(yes, I know that’s crazy to be okay with that) but the depression led me to the darkest of the darkest.  At night, I cried myself to sleep for months on end-hiding it from my family as they were taking care of my ailing grandmother and little toddlers. This wasn’t a simple boo hoo-tears rolling down your cheek. This was a “get on the floor in my tiny closet, shut the door, curl up into the tightest possible position, and shake violently while remaining silent” kind of crying. I spent those nights racking my brain trying to think of what could have possibly gone wrong? What did someone do? Why was I hurting so badly? I just couldn’t understand.

Many other symptoms unraveled my life and then by the age of 16 it happened. I had what’s called a manic episode. I won’t go into the details of that now, but it was awful. I lost touch with reality. And I lost touch with all my friends-well most of them. The mania seems fun at the beginning. You feel euphoric, but if not tended to, it spirals out of control.

Soon after the episode began, I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. I had it stamped to my forehead for a little while, but once I got stabilized on my medicine, I peeled off the stamp and stuck it in my pocket-only taking it out for select people to see.

I’m writing now because of the reactions of those select people who saw. Those people had hurts, too. They had struggles. And some of them even had Bipolar Disorder. It’s a medical illness many people still misunderstand. From my knowledge of “Silver Linings Playbook”, it’s not the most accurate portrayal of the illness-at least not how I act. Through the love of my caregivers, I’ve learned to take care of myself and jump on top of my health whenever the symptoms start to arise. These tips and tricks are something I’m willing to share. I’m here reaching out with a helping hand, but I can’t help without the Hand that’s held mine. This blog with evolve I’m sure, but to start out it will be on what I suffer, why I suffer, how I deal with it and how I embrace it.

+ Pax + | KK