Kristi

“…or I might find out what it’s like to ride a drop of rain…” ~ Brad Paisley

Dear Ma,

So, where do I start? The hole that’s in my heart grows more and more as I come to understand that you are truly gone. Honestly, it takes my breath away and as much as I try to push down those feelings, I’m finding I simply can’t do that much longer. Ulcers, stomach pains, and headaches are telling me that I need to start what others call the ‘healing’ process. But to me, it’s not healing at all – it’s actually scarring which will be with me always and will still cause me pain when I bump against it. And you know, the funny thing about all of this is that the one person in the world who could comfort me best is you. You.

I feel so selfish though because I’m crying so much for me…for losing my support, my rock, my best friend, the person who loved me more than anyone else in the world ever has. Ma, I’m scared to be without you…so scared of what my life will be without you. I miss our Sunday lunches…our card playing…our trips…our eating Mexican and then getting too stuffed…our jokes…our conversations…our laughs. You always made me happy. Always.

Something else I’m struggling with is guilt. So much fucking guilt, ma…and it’s eating me up. What you went through with Richard is making me vomit whenever I think about it. I should have helped you more. Tried harder to get you away from him. Drug you to the police. Forced you to go to the DV shelter for help. There are so many ‘shoulds’ that I have running through my brain and they torment me. You always protected me and did everything you could for me and in turn, I feel like I failed you. Remember when I apologized to you in the hospital for this? I’ll never ever forget what you said to me: “Kristi, you did all you could.” I heard that ma…but just can’t believe it yet.

I also didn’t know how much you were drinking because you hid it so well. Sometimes I’d call you at night and knew you were drunk just because of your slurred words. But I truly thought those were one-offs…not a nightly thing. I’ve been going through tons of old photos and can now see the signs in your face during that time. And you know, I also see the difference in your eyes over time: I have a pic of you when you were with Richard (don’t worry, ma…he’s going to a very different place than where you are) and drinking, and your eyes are empty. Glazed. Vacant. After you left and settled in to what you call the best years of your life, they brightened and sparkled. What an awesome transition that is to see!

You know, I think a lot about your strength and class. I know you and pop divorcing was devastating for you. I saw your pain…your tears…and then your strength when you pulled yourself out and started to live again. Fighting back against Richard was horrifying; I remember you at the shelter as we were getting your OP and then going in front of the judge. You were shaking so hard beside me and grasping my hand to where I had indentations from your nails. But you persevered even with the fear of retaliation from him. And then you grew. And grew. And grew.

Your quilting business blew me away. Who knew you had such a keen business sense? What you built in the span of just a couple of years, and then worked at for over 15, was amazing. So many of your customers came to pay their respects to you, and Terri and I were so proud to hear them talk about your kindness…sweetness…talent…helpfulness. We were gobsmacked. You made such an impression on everyone you met and everything they said was true. Completely true.

So Terri told me what you said to her before you lost your ability to talk – “I want Kristi to be OK and I don’t want you to worry in your life.” Terri has been wonderful with me and has taken over the role of older sister seriously. We talk multiple times a day and are always checking up on one another. We’ve worked together on your house and haven’t had any sort of disagreement at all. We know you’d be proud. And when she came over the other day, she said “I’m going to hug you now!” Then we looked at each other and laughed. We both know Terri isn’t a hugger…but she knows how much I need that and is comforting me so much…I hope I’m doing the same for her. Little does she know she’ll be a champion hugger in a few months.

And ma, I know you wanted me to have your house but honestly, I just can’t do that. You are too much there and I don’t think I’d ever be able to move on to the degree I should in those surroundings. I would also feel like I was taking your place in a way…something no one could ever ever do. I do have your living room furniture though, and when I look at the chair you always sat in to read and sew and watch TV, I see you. In your jammies from Kohl’s with a scrubbed face and damp hair. I love that picture of you so much.

I talk to you everyday, ma and I hope you can hear my words…I know I can hear you. Understand that I’m never going to stop having you in my whole heart…never let go of your hand…never ever say goodbye. And when I see you again, I’d better get a damn big hug.

Thanks, ma. You were truly the best mom I could ever have. There are a lot of things that haven’t gone right in my life, but you were always there. Always. And having had that for all of these years makes up for anything else.

Love you ma. Love you more.

Kristi xoxo

“Like a heart-broke Desperado, headin’ right back to my roots…” ~ Morgan Wallen

So, I’m having a crummy day. Actually, I’m having a very shitty day and I’m hoping it won’t go anymore downhill from here. I cried about ma in my office before class and then during an exercise in my Intro to Socio course, a student started to cry herself because the exercise hit home for her. THEN, a student of mine gave me a wonderful t-shirt she bought from a college student who is working hard for suicide prevention: It’s pink and says “Stay Another Day”…that made me cry too! Sheesh.

Anyhoot, I’m finding out that death is handled a lot like cancer by many people: apparently talking about it makes it catching. When some colleagues pass me in the hall and ask how I am, I say “I’m ok.” Then they walk away…uncomfortable with that honest response. Actually, a truly honest response would be: “I’m fucking horrible. My ma died and she was my foundation…half of my entire world…and loved me more than anyone on the face of this earth ever has.” And obviously, if ma has computer access in heaven, I need to apologize for saying ‘fuck’ – sorry I said fuck, ma. I know you hate the word fuck. 🙄

When ma was diagnosed with breast cancer, many of her ‘friends’ and even some family alienated themselves from her…at a time when she needed them most! I know some of that is fear…feeling uncomfortable…being faced with the understanding that anyone can get cancer. I also think we shy away from cancer, and death, because it’s hard to know what to say. I get that…it’s so difficult to know what words to use. What will comfort or what will hurt. It’s a balancing act and I know I haven’t walked it well in the past.

It’s been 6 weeks since ma died and the tidal wave of grief has started to wash over me…it’s almost like I actually felt the water hit. It’s getting much more difficult to deny that she died and is truly gone…but I’m trying. I talk to her all the time (not out loud in public!) and Terri actually texts her old phone. I think it’s our way of still feeling that connection as we muddle through this time.

Being at school has been a mixed blessing. My students motivate me to be ‘on’ everyday and knowing I have to get up and get going is something I need right now. Rolling out of bed on the weekends is a process.

But the flip side is this: putting on my “Professor K” mask gives me something to hide behind. You know when you were little…and you thought that if you covered your eyes everything…including you…would ‘go away?’ That’s my mask right now. Plus, school started days after ma died and I had to work on my classes fervently since I didn’t while ma was in the hospital, so I’ve had that mask on for this entire time. Then, I’ve been keeping it on at home too. I know Edward and Mally understand I’m sad but I don’t want to burden others, i.e. humans, with it. My neighbors are totally wonderful and I have gotten in the habit of using their yard swing to meditate on, but I don’t want to vent to Terri or O. Terri is in the same boat I am…she’s mourning and sad and confused and still denying that this could have happened. She’s burdened enough with her own feelings. And O lost his grandma; plus, he has 2 businesses he runs and a girlfriend. He’s busy and I only see him about once a week. All of this means that I’m pretty much by myself unless I’m at school. For someone who craves hugs and affection and cuddles, this is so so hard! I’d give about anything for someone I could do this with. Confide in. Vent too. Keeping this in and being so fucking (sorry again, ma) lonely is horrid.

It’s funny because I thought I knew what lonely was. As usual, I was mistaken (big shocker, huh?). Even when I was lonely because of not having a partner (hopefully ma is working on that now – a cowboy with Levi’s and a great singing voice like Morgan Wallens, tall, weathered, and funny…not a lot of expectations there 😐) I still had ma. We talked every morning and every night and texted throughout the day. When anything would happen, I’d call and share it with her…she was just always there. Terri said this yesterday and it’s so so true: “I just want to talk to mom about my mom dying.”

Anyways, I have some answers to this: first, I’m starting to allow myself to be sad…to not feel like I always have to be my usual effervescent self 😳. I also know I have to start reaching out more; I’m getting involved in a really great church that’s small, friendly, and so relatable; Terri has gone with me a couple of times and it’s nice to share that together. I’m also trying to eat better since it’s always hard for me to eat when I’m upset and am proud to say I’ve been snitching Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups from our secretaries desk. Finally, O has encouraged me to see a grief counselor and I’m going to call for an appointment this week.

I know reading this is probably depressing but honestly, I need the outlet. Writing has always been therapeutic for me and I truly appreciate you all listening and many of you have reached out to me…thank you so so much! I’m actually going to do my best to get Terri to guest blog later this week. I think it would be good for her, and would also let her express things she might need to face which could be cathartic for her as well.

Thanks for listening, peeps…you’re all the best.

Love you ma. Love you more.

Kristi xoxo

“You’re missing, but you’re always a heartbeat from me.” ~ Enya

So, it’s been a month now and I’ve been in denial about the permanence of ma being gone. Unfortunately my head…and heart…must think it’s time for me to break through this and it’s like a storm has suddenly washed over me.

It’s funny that what you wish for isn’t always what you can handle. For the last couple of weeks, I’ve wanted to get past this wall I had up and start ‘really’ feeling the grief I know is in me. And bam. It’s a’happening.

T and I were at ma’s yesterday helping someone pick up a quilt ma was making for them. After T left to go to the dentist, I walked through the house ma and pop built and that I lived in from the age of 6. I could see ma in every room, remember her laughter, and hear her voice. I could even smell her in that ‘house scent’ we all have in our homes.

You know, whenever I used to go over to the house, I’d walk in and yell: “Ma?! Are you there ma?!” And she’d say: “Kristi?! Is that you?!” Then I’d hug her hard…always always always hug her first thing. I yelled that yesterday. Again and again. And I was wanting so fucking bad for her to yell back; when she didn’t, I think I finally realized that my ma died. And honestly, I feel a sense of loneliness I’ve never…ever…felt before.

Of course I’ve been lonely at times in my life…sometimes it’s hard being single and living by myself. But no matter how down I got, ma was there. Always there. I could call her…go to her…and just always know that despite anything else in my life, she was within reach. Always my constant. Always my anchor.

Knowing that’s no longer so makes me feel like I’m adrift in the sea…no focus…no path…no direction. I’ve never felt this emptiness and it’s one tough son of a bitch to handle. Today I was just needing a hug. A simple hug. But my hugger’s gone and as someone who craves affection, it’s hard to not have that physical comfort. My neighbors across the street are getting used to me popping over in my boxers and t-shirt so they can give me a squeeze. It helps.

It also helps to keep busy so I’ve got a huge coloring poster hanging up and I work on that. I’ve done some jigsaw puzzles…just finished a 1000 piecer…and have been getting some more African violets to fuss with. There’s around 16,000 different varieties and even though my collection is growing, I do know my limits with these.

Anyhoot, I’m going to take this grief thing one day at a time…I guess that’s all you can do. I’m going to let myself cry. Vent. Yell. Whatever I need to do to start working through this heartache. I know I’ll never…ever…get ‘over’ ma. I know I’ll grieve her until I see her again. But I also hope it will become if not easier…then ‘less’. My pain will turn to an ache that will always be with me. And that’s OK. Because I know ma is with me…in my head and my heart. And I’m going to keep her there. Forever.

Love you ma. Love you more.

Kristi xoxo

“But there never seems to be enough time…” ~ Jim Croce

So, one day O’s dad came home from work when I was 8 months preggy and found me sitting on the living room floor shoveling Oreo’s down my gullet, watching All My Children, and bawling with umpteen parenting books spread all around and all open to different chapters. He sighed, stomped into my pity bubble, scooped up all of these tomes and proceeded to chuck them in our dumpster. And yes son, this is before us old folks regularly recycled.

Trust me, this was an act of mercy. I don’t know about you all but when anything happens to me, I turn to books to try to figure things out. The only problem with this is that every book has conflicting advice, ideas, and tips to use for such a task. For example, EVERY parenting book I was reading on that day of infamy said something different about ‘how’ to raise my baby. Every one. I was so befuddled I thought about calling my OB/GYN (who had the bedside manner of a turnip 😳) and telling him I was calling off this ‘birth thing’ that was ultimately B’s fault. But know what I figured out after being a new ma for a few months? That they were all right. And all wrong. And my job was to do the best I could with the personality of the little guy I had and hope for the best. Luckily, it worked. Very well.

And now? I find myself doing the exact same thing with books on grief. I’ve read tons of info on ‘how to grieve in the right way’ and if I put into practice all of these, I’d be once again bawling, watching soaps throughout my day (which I actually wish I could🤔 ) and gaining 10 pounds a week. Hmmm.

However, I have come across advice that does help me and while searching I found this from Everyday Health (paraphrased):

“Saying goodbye to a parent is a life-changing experience, marking the end of a bond we’ve known for our entire lives (Heidi Horsley, PsyD). Until it happens, we don’t know what our lives are like without our parents and to have them gone can be traumatic, whether it’s sudden or expected.”

“Our biological parents give us life, and the parents who raise us (whether biological or not) shape our lives in really big ways. They’re with us from day one, forming the foundation of our identity.” (Alexandra Kennedy).

Research show that people continue to report trouble sleeping, concentrating at work, getting along with people, and a strong emotional response one to five years after losing a parent. Other research suggests losing a parent puts someone at a higher risk of numerous negative mental and physical health outcomes, including higher likelihood of binge drinking, self-esteem issues, and overall decline in happiness. This evidence also reinforces that parents often play critical roles in our self-confidence and sense of purpose throughout our lives.
Carmen Chai

Honestly, reading this comforted me in a way nothing else has because it helps me to understand the gut-punchy feeling I’m walking around with and why I have such a hard time accepting ma’s death itself.

Ma really did play such a role in my self-confidence…no matter what else might be happening around me, ma ALWAYS supported me and believed in my abilities to handle whatever it might be. I did feel a sense of purpose being ma’s daughter…that was (and I guess still is) a HUGE status for me and at night, when I’m used to talking to her and reviewing our days together, brings that home to me. I know how much I needed her attention and love and how ‘less than’ I feel by not having it now. She made me feel like I was so important in her life too, and never passed up an opportunity to show her appreciation for me.

Crystal Raypole wrote a great article in Healthline and gave 10 ideas for how to navigate through grief which is a great compilation of advice I’ve read elsewhere. Some of these are easier than others…and some are going to take me a lloonngg time to either begin or traverse through.

The first couple are to both validate your feelings and then allow yourself to fully experience the grief. OK. These are the toughies. I keep apologizing to people for being in such a ‘sleep walky’ type of existence right now and when others ask me how I’m doing, I always say OK which is actually not the truth. I know saying fine isn’t true at all and saying horrible probably is a bit harsh to put on someone else, so OK is my go-to right now. However, a friend of ma’s, T’s and mine said this yesterday: “Fine simply means fucked, insecure, neurotic and emotional.” I guess with this definition, fine really does sum up my day to day right now. (Love you, Teeeny 💘)

And fully experience the grief? I think this is different for everyone and right now, I can only take it in dribs and drabs. I find myself vacuuming yet again when I feel these waves come upon me and I know that if I open that door, I’ll drown right now. I eventually will…but right that that tsunami would be way too much.

Caring for myself is one I’m working on and I definitely have support from the fam but what’s ironic is this: I get to crying over ma and start to call her so I can talk to her about it…after all, that’s what I always did when I was upset. What a tough habit to break.

Sharing and honoring memories is another idea and T and I are doing just that in a lot of ways. Ma made so many beautiful quilts and we have given a quilt to all of our family, ma’s friends and neighbors, and are going to have the rest professionally cleaned and then donated to the local Cancer Care center for them to give to those getting treatment. This is the same place where we asked for memorials and it honors ma’s 25 years of having been a cancer survivor. We know she’d love knowing others getting comfort from what she made. Every time we talk, T and I (and O and I too) share memories and some make us cry…some make us laugh. And you know, having T is a gift. Only she knows what I’m feeling since she’s struggling with it too…we are truly a team in this loss.

Finally, a suggestion I’ve seen in various places as well says to forgive the person for past wrongs, unresolved issues, etc. Here’s a true testament to ma: I don’t have any. I know people make the dead into saints when in fact, no one deserves that title. However, ma was an amazingly, perfectly imperfect parent and she was there for T and I no matter what. We were lucky that we got to talk to her so much up until a couple of days before she died, and at one point she tried to apologize to me for having married her ex husband (yes, he’s a fucking bastard and had he shown up at her funeral, my nephews and O were going to ‘escort’ him out 😠) and putting T and I through these horrible years of domestic violence and the abuse he heaped on us as well. I stopped her. I told her she didn’t need to apologize…she needed to absolve herself of any guilt she had towards us because he was the abuser…not her. And I know that she was the one that had to ultimately understand when she could get away from him with her life. How can we blame her for going through hell? I blame him.

Maybe I’m reading too much about this grief thing and maybe I think that by doing so, I’ll glean quick fixes to this shattered life. The best thing I’ve learned is this: it’s going to take a LONG time to grieve ma…I’m going to feel things in my own time and way…I’m going to have to re-learn life with having a ma in it…and I have to make sure that the life I have is lived to it’s fullest and the people who are in it simply know how much I love them. If T and I can both do this, I think ma would be proud.

Love you ma. Love you more.

Kristi xoxo

“Some people care too much. I think it’s called love.” ~ Winnie the Pooh

So, I’ve been reading through the 2 years of blog posts I’ve written and it’s funny to see how much my life has changed. What was such a big deal at one time is nothing now and I know that in terms of relationships and break-ups, time truly does heal all wounds. How weird to see people I thought were so important to me be nothing more than a blip now. It’s nice to know the heart really does have the power to mend in these cases.

Almost every one of my posts has ma in it somewhere…even if it’s just apologizing for saying fuck. But wanna be in on a secret? Ma used to say it too every once in a while…probably 3 times in her life in front of me and always laughed and turned red when she did. So many of my posts talk about the fun we had together, conversations we trudged through, trips we took, and the list goes on.

Even though I am still in shock and a bit of denial (T and I both share these feelings), I am starting to see her everywhere…metaphorically. I did dishes today and she was there…standing over my shoulder at holidays with pursed lips telling me I didn’t rinse a cup well enough. On my way to school I realized that EVERY single place I pass is somewhere ma and I went: restaurants, stores, thrift shops, etc. I ordered a couple of African Violets just now (my new obsession…gramma and ma both loved them and I’m feeling it too 🙂) and it made me think of when I was a little girl and she had yellow shelving pop put together for her with violets covering them. I know I got my green thumb from her. I put a book on reserve at our library and thought about how ma went there every single week for all of her adult life. Every week. She was a voracious reader and T and I share that trait. Her favorite thing was to soak in a warm bubble bath with a little bowl of chocolate covered anything and read and snack. When T and I are doing things in her house I see her at her quilting machine…cross stitching on the couch…making the best chili in the world.

I think about our inside jokes…how we used to sign greeting cards with funny names or things we’d say while playing cards. She had such a great sense of humor and ‘got’ me more than anyone else ever has.

How can you describe someone who was your world? What words can possibly illustrate the scope of her in my life? The place in my heart? The memories in my head? It’s such an indescribable feeling to not only lose someone you loved more than life itself but to have your world so shaken up. Turned around. Changed forever.

Being Prof K helps a lot during the day…it gives me purpose and direction during this time of numbness. My students are absolutely freaking amazing and are so sweet in how they’ll ask how I am. But when I’m at home? It’s like I’m sleepwalking through life outside of campus. I can’t sew. I don’t know if I ever will again…T can’t either and ma’s bestie said the same thing to me yesterday. I’ve been doing huge jigsaw puzzles while listening to audiobooks for something to focus on but I hear her voice in my head telling me to work on the border first. Even writing this is hard…not because of the content and the fact I’m crying, but because ma always read my posts. Always praised them. Always told me how proud she was of me.

T and I are taking things one day at a time and I’m focusing on being there for O…he loved his gramma so much. Even Edward and Mally run to the door when someone pops over and I can see sadness in Ed’s eyes when it’s not ma. There was nothing he liked better than trying to lick her ears when she was on the couch.

So many people at school who have lost a parent have sought me out and talking to them helps. One friend said that I’ll never ever get over the grief completely…never have my world the same way again…but that you learn to live with it. That it’s going to take me a while. I know that my heart won’t mend this time…it will scab over but the hurt will be there. Always.

Today, a friend told me a quote by Winnie the Pooh: “How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.” I was gobsmacked by this because it made me realize that ma was such an amazing person who I got to have for 55 years. But unlike Pooh, I’m never going to say goodbye. I’ll always talk to her. Always love her. Always miss her. And always work to make her proud.

I keep greeting cards I get and ma used to give me a lot of them. One of them I found said this: “You are loved and adored and I’m proud to be your ma.” What a great feeling to know she felt this way. What a gift. What a wonderful message that I can hold onto for the rest of my life.

Love you ma. Love you more.

Kristi xoxo

“When you Love Someone” ~ Bryan Adams

So, it’s been 2 weeks since ma died and the emotions I’m feeling are all over the place. I grieved my grandparents and was devastated by their deaths but ma’s has hit me like a truck. It’s almost like my brain doesn’t know how to process all of this yet.

Elisabeth Kubler- Ross wrote about 5 stages of death in her 1969 book called “On Death and Dying”. I’ve never read this entire book but am aware of the stages from psychology – Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance.

Obviously these stages are going to be traversed through differently by everyone and they aren’t necessarily linear. However, I know that I’m in the denial stage which is common after a quick death.

An article in Washington.edu talks about the stress and trauma that grief entails and how it can overwhelm the person grieving. The stress hormones released affect sleep, appetite, ability to focus, feeling detached from self and others, and an overall feeling of constantly being in a nervous state physically and emotionally. I know my heart rate is higher (an effect of the sympathetic nervous system being the cause of the release of the stress hormones) and eating is difficult. I’m ‘forcing’ myself to eat meals but honestly, snacking and eating comfort food is a norm for me right now. Thank the Lord for peanut butter and jelly.

In the same article it talks about what these stages of grief look like and denial includes: avoidance, procrastination, forgetting, easily distracted, mindless behaviors, keeping busy all of the time and saying “I’m fine” when asked.

If this were a checklist, I’d have a red mark by all of them. I know I’m avoiding the permanence of ma being gone. When I allow myself to think about it, I become so overwhelmed at the thought of my life without her that I can’t handle that flood of emotions yet. I find myself shutting it down. Keeping busy helps me postpone this grief I need to process: my house has never been cleaner and I’ve read more books these past 2 weeks than in the previous 2 months. I may not be absorbing what I’m reading but it’s an escape.

Experts say this denial can feel like shock, numbness, confusion and just shutting down…all things I relate too.

My sissy and son are being awesome. T and I are both grieving and I know she’s having trouble processing our loss as well. O was very close to his gramma and misses her terribly. We check in with one another and support each other the best we can.

I feel guilty that I’m not crying all of the time. I feel like I’m not doing this ‘grief thing’ right. I’m scared this weight will be with me always because I’ll never allow myself to work through it. But, it’s comforting to know that denial is common, but losing ma so quickly is still hard to comprehend.

All I know is this: ma was an amazing mom to me. I loved her more than words can ever say and I know she loved me more than anyone else on the earth ever has. I think that’s why this is so hard for me to face: to think this one person is now gone and I won’t feel that depth of love anymore. I have a huge depth of love for O…but he also has his own life and his own love and his expression of his love for me is very different from ma’s. My family is not touchy-feely at all…just me. Ma hugged and kissed me every time I was with her and she fulfilled that need for affection that I have. I miss that so so much.

I also miss having someone I can lean on during this (aside from my fam). Being alone is tough right now…I wish I had someone ‘there’ that I could hug and cuddle and get comfort from. Luckily, Edward and Mally are sweeties and they’ve never been hugged more in their lives…they’re loving it!

Anyhoot, I miss ma more than I can say and it’s so overwhelming that when you lose a parent, you are losing the way your world has always been.

Love you ma. Love you more.

Kristi xoxo

“You gave me love and helped me find the sun…” ~ Seasons in the Sun

So it’s been quite a while since I’ve blogged…I took the summer off since working on the computer for school all year takes it’s toll.

But I wanted…or maybe needed…to tell my sweetie peeps that ma died this morning. She was such an active, vibrant, beautiful woman and only began deteriorating in July. It was a fast downhill slide and sissy and I are in shock. I’ve written so much about her over the last couple of years and I know some of you have laughed at her antics. She always got a kick out of me apologizing to her whenever I fucking cussed (sorry, ma).

I’ve contemplated the word ‘love’ lately and realized, as I was watching her fight for breath yesterday in the hospital, that the word just isn’t big enough to describe what I felt for her. She was my light. My best friend. And the most amazing mom I could have ever ever asked for.

Ma was diagnosed with cirrhosis of the liver in 2006…she was an alcoholic but didn’t drink a drop after this diagnosis. Most people live about 5-6 years with the severity of damage she had…she lived 16. My sissy and I didn’t know that these last 10 years were the miracle we had been praying for these last couple of weeks. Our extra time with her had already happened.

This last decade was the happiest of her life. She was safe and healthy and happy and had so many friends that loved her. She did so much traveling and activities and at the age of 65 started a quilting business that was incredibly successful. She got to see her great grandkids grow up to their teenage years and took so much pride in sissy earning her LPN and working with special needs kids, and me being a prof. She told us so many times these past few days how proud she was of us.

I spent these last couple of days just rubbing her arms and hair…laying beside her in her hospital bed to cuddle…and telling her over and over again how much she meant to me. I think she understood.

I can’t say goodbye to her yet…I haven’t processed everything and know it’s going to hit me hard. All I know is that the times I thought my heart was broken were nothing compared to this. Nothing. My heart isn’t broken…that can be fixed. Instead, my heart has a piece now missing that can never…ever…be replaced.

Rest in peace, ma. You deserve that more than anyone else I know.

Kristi xoxo

Ma supported me in everything I did. Everything.

Ma loved Dottie so much…I think she’s probably cuddling her right now.

Ma took care of me when I was having some surgery in 2021…she was my rock.

Going over to ma’s for lunch…something I did every Sunday. After we ate, I’d kick her butt in cards. (Actually, she beat me just as many times and bragged when she did).

“Regret is useless in life” ~ Marlon Brando

So, the worst thing about not being able to blog much this semester is that I have so many ideas that when I do get time, I don’t know which to choose. In fact, I regret I have less time for this outlet than I’d like. Ooooo…I have a regret. Hmmmm.

I’ve been thinking about a lot about regrets lately. A few weeks ago, one of my friend’s daughters called me and said her mom had died…she had simply laid down for a nap and never woke up. I was gobsmacked. Linda was a really genuine, down to earth, sweet woman and it didn’t matter how much time went between seeing each other; she was the type of friend you could pick right back up with as if a day had never passed. She’ll be missed.

You know, I think I’ve always just ‘assumed’ that I’ve got a lot more time to live. Ma and pop are both in their late 70’s and one grandma lived well into her 90’s. Ma’s parents died young…at age 63 for both of them…but they also lived a very sedentary life. Grandma was a chain-smoker and had been for decades and grandpa died of cirrhosis of the liver because of life-long alcoholism. So, their young deaths were definitely tied to these lifestyles (but, they were the BEST…most of my happiest memories are with them 🙂) and since I’m fit, eat well, don’t smoke or drink, and otherwise take pretty good care of myself, I tend to think I have years and years left. But…that’s not guaranteed, is it?

Car accidents, cancer (which there is a family history of on both sides…ma is a breast cancer survivor!🌞 ), Alzheimer’s (which my older grandma died of…it is such a horrifying disease and broke all of our hearts), falls (like from my roof when I’m dancing a jig while cleaning out my gutters just to make my bestie across the street laugh 😬), and simply being bipolar. Yep…that’s one I think about more than I probably should. The National Library of Medicine reports that studies show female bipolar ‘patients’ have about a 10.6-8.3 years lesser life-span (while men lose 12.0-8.7 years) than the general population. This is even a bit higher than the 10 year reduction in life-span for chronic smokers. Charmed.

And suicide: again, the National Library of Medicine found that the rate of suicide among bipolar patients is approximately 10–30% higher than the corresponding rate in the general population. Research has also found that up to 20% of (mostly untreated) those with bipolar will end their life by suicide, while 20–60% of ‘us’ will attempt suicide at least one in our lifetime. In other words, being bipolar ain’t so great. Go figure.

So, because of my friend and the suddenness of her death, I’ve been thinking about my life and ruminating over regrets that I have. Regretting something is really wishing it never happened…in fact, regret is often called a useless emotion since you can only regret what has already taken place which makes it too late to change things. All that’s left is the sorrow of that , which leads to guilt, shame, remorse, etc.

Daniel Pink (author of The Power of Regret) says there are 4 major types of regret:

Foundation Regrets: these are failures to be responsible or conscientious which can center around money and health.
Boldness Regrets: not taking the action you wanted…being INACTIVE in terms of going after a job or reaching out to someone you want to get to know. In other words, passing up chances that could have changed your life. Pink’s study found that these inaction regrets outnumber action regrets. So, what we don’t do makes us more sorrowful than what we do do. Interesting, isn’t it?
Moral Regrets: pretty self explanatory but let me phrase this in my Kristi language: those times when you fucked up royally. Pink found that although these tend to be the fewest of all our regrets, they are actually the most painful ones for us.
Connection Regrets: neglecting the people that you should be connecting with more.

Bronnie Ware, an Australian palliative carer and author of The Top Five Regrets of the Dying says that the 6 most common regrets those with serious illness have are:

I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
I wish I hadn’t worked so hard.
I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
I wish I’d stayed in touch with my friends.
I wish I had let myself be happier.

Hmmm…is there anyone of us that can’t relate to these? Good Lord, as I look back on my regrets, I see them in all of these categories and in this list of common ones. Before I even started reading Ware’s work, I actually had thought of these very ones. The worst for me? Not living my life authentically…and actually, still not doing so in many ways.

We’ve talked about masks and how those of us with mental illness hide behind them out of shame, embarrassment, pressure, expectation, etc. I did for most of my adult life. Who wants to admit they have a mental illness that is so stigmatized? So misunderstood? Has so many myths circling around it like vultures who want us to believe we’re ‘crazy’ and violent? How can anyone in their right mind (yes, that pun was intentional 😳) want that rosy attitude directed towards them? The solution? Hide. Pretend. Be who others want you to be. Expect you to be. Demand that you be. That’s a tough thing to do and in fact, many of us know that it’s fucking (sorry, ma) exhausting and really does nothing at all in the long run anyway. Masks fall off…they disintegrate…they shift and budge. They are simply unsustainable. And when the elastic does break on them people say things like “You used to be so ‘normal.” Or, “You never used to speak up like that.” Or, “Ummmm…no…I don’t think I can do lunch with you today…ummmm…something came up.” Or, “Of course Kristi is to blame for that, she’s bipolar…you know, they’re all nuts.” Is it any wonder we put them on in the first place?

But then I think about WHO I put them on for and realize they can all fuck off anyway (not gonna apologize for that one ma, since you say the same too 😐). Those I pretended for were really going to love me forever? Or be my best friend? The assholes (I’m on a profanity roll here…) who wouldn’t accept someone mentally ill in their midst were really worth me being someone I wasn’t? Well no…they weren’t. And believe me, the only regret I have with this one is just how recently I learned it.

Another one I’m still working a lot on is a boldness regret…one of inaction. Look, I’ve been bullied a lot in my life…as have many of my sweet peeps. My sister is a badass and this is why: she isn’t rude or mean or a fight-picker, but by golly she’ll stand up for herself with absolutely nothing held back! In fact, she still does it for me in place of the times I can’t! My inaction regarding standing up to people was more understandable when I was young and sickly and skinny, but still doing it at 55? No…it’s pretty much bullshit by now. After all, I’m in my 50’s (yeeeeesh…) and shouldn’t be so hesitant to say what I really want and need to say. Right? I can do this for my son…in fact, sticking up for him has always been easy no matter what his age. I’m quite the mama bear! But to do it for myself? Hmmm…perhaps I need to harness that bear for myself as well.

But, I don’t. I think it’s why the other people have usually blamed me for their actions: cheated on me…my fault. Yelled at me…my fault. Accused me of things…my fault. You get the point. And why do I acquiesce to this? Hmmm…maybe in some part because I had to be more timid and accommodating around ma’s bastard of an ex. If I stood up to him…didn’t agree with him…didn’t nod my head and smile no matter what he said, ma was the one in danger. Period. So, that ‘I’m sorry’ became a sort of mantra for me. And now? Bipolar is to blame. No matter what I say or do or feel, it can be easily turned around to the fact that since I have bipolar, I must be the one in the wrong. It’s a great scapegoat for anyone to use against me when they need someone outside of themselves to blame. Blech.

And of course there are all of the other regrets too: I do work too much at times…let friendships get pushed aside in all the busyness of the week…not spend the time I should with those that mean the most to me. But the good news is this: regrets are things that have their origins in the past…and don’t have to be our futures. So, my pledge to myself? Be me with no excuses. Reach out and make time for those I love and if papers don’t get graded that day, the world won’t end. Stand up for myself and say “Hey! Lay off!” Nurture the friendships I’ve built over these last couple of years. Take a bit more care with my moolah so there won’t be regret with that later in life when I’ll be looking into what old folks home I want to spend my golden years in. And not be scared to be happy…whatever that happy may look like.

But one thing I don’t regret? Starting this blog, getting to know all of you, and making some pretty awesome friends along the way. Thanks, peeps.

Kristi xoxo

Good Lord, I wanted Billy Ray’s hair so badly (along with a few other ‘things’ too😳) !

“I really want to tell you I’m sorry.” ~ David Foster (Chicago)

So, I love to peruse TedTalks and various websites like psychologytoday and PsychCentral and read as much as I can in terms of new topics, issues, ideas, and what-not. In other words, I’m a nerd (and actually, I’m OK with that! 🤓).

Anyhoot, I came across a Ted video with sociologist Maja Jovanovic (author of ‘Hey Ladies, Stop Apologizing and Other Career Mistakes Women Make’) who talks about how women apologize way too much and the consequences of it. When I saw the description I immediately watched…twice. It was scary how much I saw myself in what she was saying in terms of needlessly apologizing. Dr. Jovanovic is a self-proclaimed ‘apology hater’ and I think she drew me into this mindset…I’m now one too. 🙂

I was amazed that as I watched this video (and read the transcript a few times too) I thought about how often I say the word ‘sorry’ everyday. Of course there are real sorry’s that need to be said for actual things I’ve done wrong, and believe me, there’s a lot of ’em. But, the ‘unnecessary apologies’ need to go. I say sorry for everything: someone bumps me and I say “I’m sorry”, a waiter forgets my ranch (which I put on everything) and I say “I’m sorry…I think you forgot my ranch”, I need more info from a salesperson and I say “I’m sorry to bother you, but I have a question”, and someone does something wrong to me and I say “I’m sorry I’m so upset about this.”

Hmmmm. Why do I feel the need to say “I’m sorry” when I’m the bumpee…not the bumper? Why do I say it when it’s the waiter who made the mistake? Why is it I preface a question to someone whose job is to answer them with “I’m sorry”? And why in the hell would I apologize to some boob who hurt me? Shouldn’t that be the other way around? So my answer to why I say sorry so much? I have no freaking idea 🙄.

Dr. Jovanovic talks about a conference she attended that included a panel discussion with 4 professional, educated women who had published numerous articles and books. She says that even when introducing themselves, each one minimized their accomplishments and discounted their expertise while using an apologetic tone. Dr. Jovanovic also noticed that the men at the conference never did. She believes that for women, “Apologies have become our habitual way of communicating.” And after all I’ve read, I agree wholeheartedly.

Sharon Martin, MSW, LCSW and author of books about Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (I just ordered her CBT book for Perfectionism 🤨) has also talked about over-apologizing and why we do it. Let’s take a look-see at these reasons (in my own words):

I think most women feel they have to be nice and polite and capitulate to things that they might not want or agree with in the first place – in other words, many of us want to be people pleasers. I can see myself in this one…a LOT! It’s kind of like “Everyone Loves Raymond” where I have this need for everyone to like me as well. This has caused me to do things I really didn’t want to do simply because I didn’t want to upset the person. Disappoint them. Hmmmm. Writing this makes me realize how much power I give away (all of it at times😳) simply to keep the peace.
Low self-esteem is another reason and because of this there’s worry that you are in the wrong. That it really is your fault you have a naked salad sitting in front of you. We don’t want to be difficult or ask for too much or to be seen as unreasonable. In other words, we don’t deserve to NOT take the blame. Yeesh. You know, my self-esteem is pretty darn good but it’s taken me quite a while to build it up these past few years; however, self-esteem is also contextual: I’m at a 100 in my classroom in terms of how I see myself, but in relationships? I tend to dip down to around the 60 mark based on negative experiences I’ve had and the fact I undoubtedly received the blame for them. In other words, I’m a ‘D’ in this case. Charmed, I’m sure.

Feeling inadequate because of perfectionistic standards is a sure way to never feel like you’re enough or have done things well, so it makes sense that those of us in this category feel we need to apologize simply because we aren’t living up to the unreasonable standards we have set. This is a toughie.
Feeling uncomfortable or insecure can often make us blurt out an apology because there’s nothing else we can think of saying. I think this is a common one for a lot of us.
Often times we make ourselves responsible for someone else’s bad: “I’m so sorry they did that…I’ll ask them not to again.” Why isn’t the actual person doing the apologizing? Why in the world do we take on the burden of someone else’s faux pas? It is that we can’t see ourselves as individuals in the relationship…not enough differentiation? Or is apologizing for someone else a strategy to have the person be seen in the best light by others? “I’m sorry…they are just upset but are usually so calm.” I’m so guilty of doing this myself! 🙄
And, the apologizing can become habitual and I know that often the words just pop out of my mouth before I’ve even really processed the situation. It’s like I’m on automatic pilot.

Larry Weidel, author of ‘Serial Winning’ states there are things out there that you simply don’t have to apologize for. I’m trying to keep these in mind so I can be more consciously aware of why I might feel the need to apologize in order to determine whether it’s warranted or not. I also think that knowing these helps break that apology habit so many of us are locked into. Let’s take a look-see at a few of these non-apology situations:

Wanting more and being disciplined in how we are living our life – I’ve had men who have told me “You are so set in your ways with how you do things.” And I always apologized…but for what? For organizing my life in a way that suits me? For having preferences for how I like things done? Seems to me everyone does that.
Our own failures – “I’m sorry…it’s my fault I still haven’t been voted faculty of the year for the 25th year in a row that I’ve been nominated. My bad.” Ugh.
Saying NO (which is VERY hard for me…every time I say no to something I end up apologizing regardless 🤨)
Our beliefs, opinions, and priorities – why in the world do I tend to preface my opinion with ‘I’m sorry…’? It’s MY opinion…nothing to apologize for after all.
Trusting our instincts – I go with my guy every time. No more sorries for that since I’ve never been let down by it…yet. (Except when it comes to choosing men…that gut instinct must be broken…right ma?😬).
Telling the truth – Wow. As I was typing this, I suddenly thought of all of the times I’ve told the truth about a situation, truthfully shared my own feelings, or shared my truest thoughts and have been chastised (or worse) for it. Hmmm. In fact, not long ago someone who did some pretty horrible things to me came by my house and I asked them for an apology before I could try to at least establish peace between us. They BLEW up at me and cussed me up one side and down the other. I ended up apologizing for wanting an apology that was completely justified. AAAGGGHHH!
Being ourselves – Terri and I were talking about this yesterday at my house and I shared this with her: one of my colleagues came to my new office the other day (it rocks! 🙂) and literally said this to me: “Kristi, you are too loud and get too excited here. I’ve heard you down the hall and don’t like it.” So, I said ‘I’m sorry.’ BUT WAIT! I’m apologizing for being excited at work? For being happy to see my students? Because I love love love teaching and refuse to speak in a monotone that would put the Pope to sleep?
Following our Hearts – been there…done that. But it’s MY decision. MY heart. MY want. And…my consequences. Right?

So, I’m going to try to be much more aware of my apologies and try to break this habit which Dr. Jovanovic says can make women appear smaller and more timid than we really are, all while undercutting our confidence. I’m going to start stating my opinions/wants/beliefs in a straightforward way without an “I’m sorry” after it. I want to work on my ‘people pleasing’ and recognize when I’m simply ‘bowing down’ to this person to keep things ‘nice’. I want to work on my ideas of perfection and not apologize for anything that’s not perfect. And now that I’ve read through this, I think that’s plenty for me to tackle right now.

One more thing: I’m sorry this post is so long. 🤓🤓🤓

Kristi xoxo

This song ALWAYS made me cry when I was in high school. Always! And yes, I wanted to marry David Foster. 🙂

“We will only talk of peace when we have won the war.” Hitler, 1939

So, like all of you no matter where you are, my eyes are on Ukraine. It’s unimaginable what the Ukrainians are going through…literally unimaginable. Empathy is the ability to understand and be able to share the feelings someone else is experiencing but how can we do that when the people of Ukraine are experiencing something that is so out of the realm of comprehension? It’s impossible to even try to put ourselves in their shoes. A young woman was interviewed the other day after her apartment complex was destroyed and said this: “One day I was taking care of my kids and going to work and spending time with my husband. Today, I’m digging my life out of rubble, my husband is fighting in the streets, my children are terrified and I fear for their lives, and we’re living in a basement of another building which could be hit any minute.” There are no words.

Of course this all centers around Putin and since I teach Psychology and Sociology, my students and I have been discussing not only the war itself but the why’s behind why Putin would do such despicable acts. Examples? Before the invasion of Mariupol, about 600 Ukrainians had been killed but 2500 have been added to that list in the last couple of days. Eighteen hospitals have been bombed including a maternity hospital and right now, a hospital in Mariupol has been taken over by Russian troops and 500 doctors and patients are being held in the basement of the partially bombed building in which the ICU was targeted. Further, at least 85 kids have been killed in this war and over 100 wounded. I know the word evil is greatly overused in our society but Putin is evil. I believe he’s the most evil tyrant since Hitler and the comparison between him and Putin in what’s happening now is horrifying.

The ‘why’s’ that my students ask are impossible to answer…no one knows what’s going on this man’s head. However the ‘what’ of Putin is very easy to grasp: he’s a psychopath. This isn’t based on my own opinion or that of the many pundits that agree, but on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist (revised) which is the leading tool we use to determine this in people. Let’s take a look at the characteristics of a psychopath and what Putin shows (I combined some of the traits):

Glibness/Superficial Charm: Putin being filmed fishing, riding horseback shirtless, driving a Formula 1 race car, and playing hockey show this ‘charm’ and his glibness shines through with every insincere comment he makes.
Grandiose Sense of Self-Worth – I don’t think this one need illustrated. At all.
Proneness to Boredom and Low Frustration Tolerance – once again, the activities already listed plus daily swimming, weightlifting, hand gliding, being an advanced black belt in Judo, using a crossbow to kill an endangered grey whale, and the list goes on. Lots of stimulation there.
Pathological Lying – “Yes, there will be a cease fire.” ” “No, we haven’t targeted civilians.” “Kids have not died.” “We’ll open a corridor for evacuees.” and these are just from the last 2 weeks.
Conning (Manipulative) and Lack of Sincerity– silencing all news outlets in Russia and bombarding the people with propagation is only 1 example of thousands.
Lack of Remorse or Guilt – Wow. Yes.
Lack of Affect and Emotional Depth – Putin’s face rarely shows emotion, even when talking about his ‘own people’ being killed.
Callous/Lack of Empathy – Killing children? Bombing maternity hospitals? Displacing millions of people from their homes? Attacking apartments where families live? Hmmm.
Parasitic Lifestyle – This is one that’s hard to determine since it’s usually meant to be one person (the parasite) using another (the host) for anything they desire. Maybe Putin isn’t this on a personal scale, but he does feed off the people he rules.
Lack of Remorse or Guilt – a given
Short-Tempered and Poor Behavioral Control – can’t stop killing children? Threatening nuclear war?
Frequent Marital Relationships – Putin was married to his ex-wife for 31 years so this is a no.
History of Early Behavioral Problems and Juvenile Delinquency – Putin was born into poverty and lived with his parents in a single room in an apartment with 2 other families and had no hot water, little if any heat, and scarce food. He was basically left to fend for himself (and was possibly adopted by another family around 9 or 10) while his parents worked, and was bullied severely until he learned to defend himself which he did often and ferociously. Needing to prove himself was learned very early in his life.
Lack of Realistic, Long Term Plans – taking over the world, which is what many say his final goal is, is unrealistic. I hope.
Impulsivity / Irresponsibility – oh yeah
Many Types of Offense – invading countries, killing off political dissidents, committing war crimes again and again, working for the KGB and doing what are undoubtedly horrific things, and the list goes on. And on and on.
Revocation of Conditional Release – another one we can say no too.

In terms of determining psychopathy, each of these characteristics is given a score from 0-2 and people with psychopathy score a 30. Criminal offenders average 22 and the general population is 5. And, a “prototypical” psychopath would receive a maximum score of 40 and there’s no doubt Putin scores this. The top.

So what causes psychopathy? James Fallon, neuroscientist extraordinaire, is a man who thought nature was everything in this development and to prove this, he studied the brains of psychopaths and found astonishing differences in brain physiology as compared with non-psychopaths. However, he came to realize the importance of nurture in terms of how these inborn traits are played out when he scanned his own brain and found it to be that of a psychopath. He talks about how this reveals itself in his life in terms of lack of empathy (he has ‘cognitive’ empathy), how difficult it is for him to be close to people, how he wants people in his world for the attention/adulation, and how he’s always on the ‘make’. However, he has no criminal tendencies which he states are because his early environment was loving, stable, nurturing etc. So psychopathology begins in the brain but how it’s expressed is definitely based on environmental influences. Seeing the early years of Putin show the trigger that enhanced these traits, including the criminality, to their fullest. In other words, nature gives the psychopathy and nurture determines how and what is expressed with it.

How can those of us without psychopathy understand Putin? We can’t. We simply can’t get in the head of someone whose brain is dark and evil with absolutely no conscience at all. And that’s what makes him frightening.

I’ve heard so many people say “He’ll back down. He’s all talk.” Really? A psychopath will just ‘back down?’ Capitulate to what’s asked of him? Stop what he started and take blame for it? Make amends? Promise to never do it again. Right now there is info that peace talks show promise. I don’t believe anything this man says…pathological lying is such a trademark of psychopathy (and narcissism which Putin has in spades) that nothing can be taken at face value. Nothing.

I don’t think he will stop this war unless he’s under attack himself. After all, he’s the most important man on the planet…in his mind (and right now, maybe it’s true). It’s simple machiavellianism: the ends justify the means no matter what the means are. Gaining back the lands that were once a part of the Soviet Union is what Putin’s end-game apparently is…and the means to accomplish this can be anything and everything just for the win. So, he’s understandable in terms of ‘what’ he has. But his behavior is so beyond what we can even imagine in terms of the essence of humanity that we’ll never truly understand.

I don’t know what’s going to happen next but I do know that we’re all in danger. Everyone. He’s purposely targeting civilians and kids to force NATO to go against him. It’s a bully saying “Cross this line…I dare you.” And eventually we have learned that the only way to take down a bully is to be stronger than they are. This was a lesson learned in terms of Hitler, albeit a horrible lesson that killed so many across the world.

From hindustannewshub.com – Volodymyr Zelensky is a hero.

In fact, a video meeting with congress and Vladimir Zelensky just ended and he asked for US and NATO support. He reminded Congress that after Hitler invaded Poland in 1939, France and Great Britain declared war and the US followed suit in 1941. He stated that the severity of the Ukraine invasion is parallel to the invasion of Poland.

I pray another World War doesn’t happen again. I pray that Ukrainians be free of these atrocities. I pray that all those in Russia who are against this war are heard. I pray that our young men and women won’t face a war that could potentially destroy countries with the push of a button…which I have no doubts Putin would do. I pray for peace. And lastly, I pray for us all.

Take care, peeps.

Kristi xoxo