Moments of Hope: Entry 1 in the Parenting Mental Illness series

How does one measure hope?... 

By the number of prayers answered? 

Or by the number of dreams and wishes that come true?

Lately for me, hope is measured in the small, subtle moments where I get to breathe and no longer have to anxiously hold my breath, wondering what will happen next. Moments where I see the evil glimpses of mental illness being overtaken by loving words of adoration and comforting hugs. 

Moments like this:

my measurement of hope

How is this a measurement of hope?

Last month, my ten-year-old was diagnosed with Bipolar. (You may remember reading about one of Jacob’s diagnoses here.) Well, it seems that Jacob’s mental health journey is not over yet. The bipolar diagnosis replaces the DMDD, even though he is still young.

While we think we have found the right medicine for Jacob concerning his bipolar, there are still other factors that medicine does not “fix”, because after all, one cannot really “fix” mental illness. 

Jacob is learning to cope with his severe anxiety and anger outbursts. His mood swings are quite challenging to navigate. There are several things we have put into place to help him calm down and redirect.

Now let’s go back to this pic. 

To this measurement of hope.

Tonight rage, despair, and anxiety came together in the form of our sweet ten-year-old boy. Logic had no place in our home for over an hour as Jacob’s meltdown escalated. I finally put him on the piano. At first, sounds of minor keys squeaked.

“Dear God, help us,” I prayed as I went into the kitchen to be with my youngest, Jude. About ten minutes later, Jacob calmly walks up to me and apologizes. Then he embraces Jude and lingers there. Jacob is not much of a hugger. He’s a sensory-avoider most of the time.

But this moment. 

This was my moment of hope.

It was the moment where I breathed...where God whispered "Everything is ok"...where I saw love between a sad boy who is crying out for help, and a family who is supportive no matter what.

The sadness in Jacob’s eyes and the long sighs his heart made, made me feel caught in a bittersweet parenting trap. Parenting mental illness sucks. It’s beyond exhausting with little reward. But it has made me a stronger person, more open to all the moments of hope that God has sent along the way. Because moment by moment is how I measure hope.

Quit Trying So Hard

I am a perfectionist. 

I know that’s hard to believe. 

Actually, my friends and family know this. In fact, as I typed it, I could hear one of my former principals saying in playful, sarcastic banter, “Really, Hardin? I had no idea.” 

(This imaginative internal monologue makes me smile. After all, I am used to joking about it.) 

But jokes aside, Perfectionism…

I’m not sure when it started exactly. Some may think it’s due to my birth order. I’m the oldest in case you couldn’t guess.

Perhaps it’s some childhood experiences that lie deep within my subconscious? 

I sometimes wonder if it has to do with the death of my daughter, a tragedy that caused me to grasp for anything and everything I could control in my life. 

But even before that, I think I was a perfectionist. For countless years, I felt totally lost. From parenthood to my career, and everything in between, I got caught up in trying to be perfect for everyone and everything. 

I didn’t say “no” to anyone because I didn’t want to disappoint.

I overdid the housework on the weekends, wearing myself out, trying to get all the laundry and chores done because a tidy house (no matter how simple and old) is a perfect home (or so I thought.)

I even spent time and effort trying to fit into certain unhealthy social circles because I thought it was the perfect thing to do.

All these desperate efforts toward perfectionism caused painful sentiments of inadequacy and failure to filter through my head, and then make their home in the inner chambers of my heart. I reached high levels of anxiety and felt my mind was going to explode. I would spend every therapist visit in sobbing sadness about how much I hated my life.

Don’t get me wrong. I wasn’t suicidal. Otherwise, she would have gotten me treatment for that. She’s an excellent therapist.

But I was constantly stressed. I would lash out in anger at my nine-year-old when he didn’t behave how I wanted. I said negative things to my husband that I can never take back. And worse of all, I lost my true self along the way. I no longer enjoyed being who I was created to be. I realized I was not perfect, and the more I strived to be perfect on the outside, the deeper I sank into despair on the inside. 

This past summer really helped change my viewpoint. I went on a mission trip to the impoverished country of Haiti. In the mountains of Haiti, things were less than perfect. I met people who had nothing, and still found a way to share. I held hands of kids who hadn’t eaten in days, but sang happy songs. 

In Haiti, I didn’t need to be perfect. My social circles were a mixture of choppy English and lots of hand motions, because you know, I can’t speak Creole. The people around me there didn’t care where I grew up, went to college, or who I rubbed elbows with on a daily basis. They didn’t care if I wore the same outfit for several days in a row without doing laundry. I didn’t have to keep a perfect house because I was thrilled to have a mosquito netted bunk bed to sleep on each night. It was beyond freeing. 

When I came back, my life started to change because my views of perfectionism changed. I’m definitely not saying that all my perfectionist tendencies have disappeared. After all, I am a person who thrives on organization and likes to plan things out. (I can’t change that God-given quality about myself.) But I can give myself permission to quit trying so hard.

Take today for example. 

Today was less than perfect.

I slept through much of the day, was out-of-sorts from pain medicine I had to take, and wasn’t able to drive my boys somewhere fun for Fall Break. (I was in a car accident this week. I’m okay, but sore.) Anyway, I let my nine-year-old take the reins with caring for the five-year-old while I was in Dreamland. They spent hours in front of the TV, played games on iPads, and ate absurd amounts of popcorn and snack foods. 

When my husband, Jason, got home, I was reflecting on the day, filling him in. It was then that I realized something…

I was fine that today hadn’t gone perfectly. 

But even in saying that, I had to give myself permission to be okay with this fact. 

For the past few years, I haven’t been gentle enough with myself. My boys were completely fine that their mom needed extra sleep. Jason could have cared less that there was a pile of dirty dishes unattended in the sink. But me...well, I had to keep saying to myself over and over, “Quit trying so hard. It’s ok that this day was what it was.”

Wow. How freeing that is! I give myself permission to break loose from perfectionism. Realistically, it’s not going to happen all at once. But, maybe a little at a time isn’t such a bad place to start.

So what now? 

Will I continue to struggle with perfectionism? 

Probably.

Will I continue to have anxiety when things don’t go as my organized self thinks they should?

Most Definitely.

But in those situations, I will think back to my moments in the mountains of Haiti as I tell myself, 

“Quit trying so hard.” 

After all, there is only so much I can control.

My Crew: An Update

Two years have passed since I wrote one of my first blog entries entitled Meet My Crew. Here’s a brief update of how everyone in the Hardin Clan is doing as of Summer 2019.

Jacob, age 9

Can you believe this handsome guy is going into 4^th grade? He is not really looking forward to school, but I believe he will be just fine. He is as funny, creative, and smart as ever. You followed Jacob’s journey in the entries where he was first diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD).

As he gets older, we are starting to see situations where his ASD has an effect on his cognitive processing abilities, especially as it pertains to relationships with the people around him. As parents and educators, we (his dad and I) are looking for ways to support him through this process.

He still maintains his ADHD and DMDD diagnoses. We finally found the perfect combination of medicine for those. The medicine dosages just have to be tweaked. This is a situation that we, along with a support team, monitor closely.

He still has those gorgeous blue eyes!

Our sweet little Jude Dude is now 5 years old and starts Kindergarten this week. This blue-eyed cutie has the best laugh, gives perfect hugs, and loves playing sports. Baseball is his favorite. 

You first read about Jude's journey two years ago.

The most amazing thing about Jude’s life is that he has been seizure-free for nearly three years! Jude just went off his daily epilepsy medicine a few months ago, and so far, things have been going well for him regarding that.

Professional speech therapists have been able to pinpoint Jude's struggles. He was recently diagnosed as having Profound Phonological Disorder with Apraxia Tendencies. So what exactly does that mean? I will explain it in an upcoming blog.

Jason is still my 'partner in crime'. Through the past several years, we realized quickly that we are a team. It's US versus THE CHILDREN on most things. And if we stand alone, we're outnumbered. 😃 Jason is my best friend, and I'm thankful for him. 

For our 15th Year Anniversary, we took a quick
(somewhat early) getaway to Chicago.

Sandy

We no longer have our beautiful, Golden Retriever, Sandy. She is now providing support for another family we know. Both Jason and I were working far from our house the past few years. Between our long commutes and crazy educational schedules that involved leading clubs and lengthy teacher’s meetings, we were getting home later and later. Sandy became sad and lonely during this time. She is such an amazing, kind dog and deserved better quality of life. So we gave her to loving family friends of ours. They have schedules that allow her to see her humans more often, and she is much happier these days. It was a very difficult decision to make, but we wanted what was best for her. Going 11/12 hours every day without seeing her family was not what was best for her.  I still tear up when I think about her. She really was (and still is) the perfect therapy dog.

As you can see, we are doing well. I won’t even begin to pretend that we have it all together though, because we don’t. 

I’m still trying to figure it out as I go. But I will say that I have found new direction for my life and have gained much insight over the past year. I’m looking forward to sharing my journey once again as I get back into the routine of writing. 💙💚💜💛

Heading to Haiti

Heading to Haiti

   

There is a favorite hymn of mine that reads,

“Here I am, Lord.

Is it I Lord?

I have heard you calling in the night.

I will go, Lord, if you lead me.

I will hold your people in my heart.”

            Schutte, Dan. “Here I Am Lord”. OCP Publications, 1981

Flashback to 2003, a picture of me standing proudly in the auditorium of Asbury University’s chapel, singing that song with all my heart, my arms toward Heaven.

…Well, not really singing it. After all, I can’t sing…but claiming the words and feeling the passion behind their meaning in the inner chambers of my heart.

I was ready to embark on a mission trip to Juarez, Mexico for my spring break. God had called me there to help do construction work on an orphanage and minister to the children there.

That was the last mission trip I have been on.

Now, 16 years later, I am ready to embark on my next mission trip, but this time to Haiti. And while I still love the lyrics to that hymn, I must confess that I say them as more of a prayer, and not as boldly with outstretched arms as I once did. So, what has changed? Allow me to explain.

Much has changed since my college years. I have gotten married, had two different, successful careers, and became a mom. So, when I felt the urge to go on this mission trip to Haiti, images of my boys and husband circulated quickly through my mind. I would have to leave them behind for 9 days in order to travel with a church group of people I do not know, to a rural mountain in an impoverished country I have never been.

While that may not seem like a ‘big deal’ to some people I know; it is to me.  Ever since a

tragedy occurred in my life 11 years ago, I have become more introverted. (Don’t let the

fact that I am a teacher fool you.) I rarely go anywhere without my family, let alone another country. After I get home from a day of work, my goal in life is to avoid as many people as possible, and spend time trying to be the best mom and wife I can.

So, then if I am feeling reluctant, why go to Haiti? That’s easy to answer.

When my Heavenly Father puts something on my heart, I have learned that it’s useless to negotiate with Him. He always wins. But, I know why He has put this particular trip on my heart at this particular time in my life.

Whenever I look around at the shape of our country today, I have a convicted, sickened feeling at what we have become as a nation. And no, I’m not solely referring to politics. (I refuse to discuss my political opinions with anyone.) I’m referring to the fact that as a nation, we have more than we deserve. Well heck, my family has more than we deserve. I love my boys, but they are growing up in a society of instant gratification and a land of plenty. There is nothing wrong with all their needs being met, and them being given every opportunity for a full life. However, I want to be able to teach them not to take things for granted. I even find myself taking my blessings for granted. This is not how I want to be.

So, I feel that God is calling me on this trip in order to strip away all the unimportant things that don’t matter in life. I have a strong desire to get back to the basics of what is important -caring for those less fortunate and showing the love of God in all I do. I want to reconnect with God in a way where my material possessions and luxury lifestyle does not interfere with the relationships I make with people. (Yes, even driving a small, dented car and wearing used Goodwill clothes is considered a luxury lifestyle in my opinion.) In order to do this, I need to get an insight to how 80% of the world lives.

So, this is where I am asking for your help.

First, please support me in prayers as I mentally and emotionally prepare for this upcoming mission trip. It will be June 11^th – 19^th. Also, I will be traveling with a team of people from another church. Please pray for all of our safety as well.

Second, please pray for my fellows as I am gone. I know that my husband is more than capable of taking care of the boys without me. But a little extra prayer never hurt anyone, especially when it comes to parenting rambunctious boys. If you live close to us and want to check in on them from time to time, the week I am gone, I would be ever so appreciative.

Even though Jason and the boys will be fine while I am away, a little extra
prayer definitely never hurt anyone, especially when it comes to parenting!

Finally, the hardest part is the finances. I have to raise the money to go on this trip. This is the part that I struggle with the most because it’s a foreign concept to me. I have to raise $1400 by May 11th. If you feel called to give, there are a few different ways you can do it.

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Ways to Help Financially

 

✔️You can go online and donate through my Give Send Go webpage at www.givesendgo.com/HeadingToHaiti.

 

✔️Another option is to send a check to me, made out to Richmond FUMC, with nothing written on the memo line. I will then compile the checks and turn them in to the correct person.

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Once in Haiti

So, what will I be doing in Haiti? I will be working with my mission team to contribute to the needs of the people of Ranquitte. The exact literary will be shaped as we get close to leaving, but will involve: leading a children's Bible School, helping create and oversee jobs for the locals in order to boost their economy, ministering to the widows, and of course, LOTS of prayer walks through the village!

In Ranquitte, a good wage is considered $8 for a long day’s work of physical labor. Most men would love to have a consistent job, but they do not get that opportunity. The orphans and widows of the village have even a harder life since many are left without a means of income altogether. We will be witnessing to them as well.

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I want to thank you ahead of time for your support, whether it be through prayers, time checking on my boys, or finances. I truly do appreciate it, and love each and every one of you!