Putting My Foot in My Mouth

I love to write.

In fact, I have always loved writing. 

I have journals upon journals that date back so far that some of them you'd think were written by the Egyptians because in kindergarten I wrote in hieroglyphics.

Be jealous.

There are a lot of reasons why I love to write.

One of the being that if you know me, you know I'm awesome at saying the worst thing at the wrong time.

You would probably agree with my husband when he says

"Why are you so awesome at putting your foot in your mouth and you only continue to get worse about it?'

Ha. It's true unfortunately.

          Here are some examples:

•  I walked up to a  girl about my age at church who was about as far along in pregnancy as me when I was pregnant with Charlotte. We were talking and I thought she said her husband was a Marine. So I asked "Oh is your husband on the field right now or something?" She replies "No, I'm not married. It's just me and my baby." I say: "Oh...cute!"

Yeah. Way to go Alex. Add 5 points to the Christian stereotypes.

• Or how about when I was talking to a guy in one of my college classes and said "Jesus loves you yah know.....oh wait...youre Muslim." (I didnt mean it how it sounded I just remembered he was Muslim at an awesome moment) And my Jewish professor heard me and said "Dont worry, Jesus doesnt love me either since Im a Jew." (Also not true) Try redeeming yourself from that one!
• Or there's the time just a few weeks ago when I was introducing myself to our new Pastor's wife.
  "Hi, Im Alex. This isnt the first impression I wanted to give you with no make up on. And this isnt the second time Im eating McDonalds today...ok yes it is." What?! Sheesh.
• Or when Im talking to the new Pastor who is trying to remember mine and Zach's names and I say : "Just think of us as your average gay couple." (meaning I have a guy name) and he says: "...only not...kind of more like just the opposite." Zach is standing behind him looking at me with a look that says "YOURE DOING IT NOW! STOP! WE WILL BE INTERNING UNDER THEM SOON!" But hey...he remembered our names.
• Or when I thought I was pregnant and went to the Dr for a test and she came out and informed me that it was negative. So I told her "Sweet!!! Thank you!" (like she had anything to do with if I was pregnant or not) and then proceeded to try to give her a handshake and end up shaking her thumb instead. Cool.
• Or when our friend's neighbors were yelling at my friend Stacia and I after they broke my truck mirror and through away Zach and Trever's motorcycle helmets? Yes...I found that as the perfect time to comment on the woman's "nice eyebrows" which weren't actually nice...because she didnt have any.
  
  
  
• Or how about when I went to Zach's house for the first time when we started dating and I heard some noises coming from down the hall and I ask "What's your cat DOING back there??" and his sweet mom replies "Oh that's Debbie. She loves Barney." I didnt know yet that he had a sister with cerebral palsy. I wanted to bury my face in my plate of spaghetti. Some how they still love me...I think.
  
  
• Or the time my father-in-law was on what we thought was his death bed and Zach flew home from Afghanistan? I was sitting around the table with him and all of his sisters when our nephew says something while looking at a picture of "pop pop" over and over that to me sounds like "I see dead people." Of course I couldn't just keep that to myself! I had to say it out loud. Yeah no one had anything to say back to that and I hid in my room for half an hour and came back to apologize. Thankfully, Alan is alive and kicking otherwise I wouldn't share that one.
  
  

There are many more examples Im sure. If we are friends, I bet you could make your own list of all the great things I say. Or even if we arent close and we've just met a couple times Ive probably said something awkward and somehow inappropriate and we both laughed nervously trying to hide our discomfort.

I dont know how many times I've been kindly told I should work on thinking before I speak.

Let me just apologize now.

Sorrryyyy!!!!

So this is why I like to write. Because I can gather and organize my thoughts and have time to say what I actually mean.

The best part about writing though, is that God somehow works in my mind and heart and seems to take control of my hands. 

So when I go back and reread what I wrote about something tragic and horrible, He shows me how He was there.

Holding me.

Guiding me.

Building my endurance and character into the person He intended me to be.

He shows me when I look back to previous entries just how confused I was in the past and when I sit here in the present I see how He worked and how everything makes sense when He is in control.

I love writing.

I love being honest and transparent.

If you read my story, (which was extremely difficult to write) you will see how I have begun to share the hard things I've experienced.

I used to think people who did this were crazy.

Like my sister-in-law (whom I love deeply) and her story.

Or this amazing woman and her story.

Until I read their stories and they spoke to me.

Until I read all the comments from people they  helped in their situation.

Now I know the beauty of transparency.

Not only does God grow us mentally and spiritually in times of difficulty but He uses our experiences to speak to others in need.

That's why I dont want to hide my trials and just share the face value stuff anymore.

Hardly a soul reads my blog and that's ok with me.

If one person reads it and feels inspired, or less alone, or closer to God because He used my times of tribulation, depression, and triumph to draw them in...then its all worth it to me.

I Just Need a Minute...

I remember before I was married and before I had kids when I would hear young moms around me saying the phrase

 "ughhh I just need a minute..just oneee minute."

 

I would laugh sympathetically and think "poor thing."

I did not realize just exactly what the phrase meant.

 

It's been one of those days...no, one of those weeks where

 

Ive just needed a minute.

 

 

A minute where I could drink my coffee in peace without Charlotte reaching and crying for it because she is convinced she needs it.

 

 

A minute where Charlotte's silence means she is playing quietly like a sweet little girl instead of getting into something she isnt supposed to...something that Ive infact told her not to get into a billion times.

 

A minute where I can make dinner or do dishes without Charlotte standing behind me and pulling my pants to the floor because she wants to be held constantly.

 

 

A minute where I can go to the bathroom by myself without my little baby needing to sit on my lap at the same time because...again she wants to be held constantly.

 

A minute where I can bathe by myself.

 

A minute where she doesnt run away from me while Im trying to dress her to go poop and pee on my floor.

 

 A minute where she isnt throwing away our car keys, ID cards, wallets, or wiping her boogies on our white couch (hey its clear we are first time parents because what mom buys a white couch??)

 

A minute where I am not cleaning because as soon as I finish cleaning one room, Charlotte goes in after me and destroys it.

 

 

 

 

 

Then I get one of those minutes.

 

 



 

When Zach and I are at a church event and Charlotte

is in childcare and after 30 minutes Im missing her terribly.

Then I go to pick her up and seeing how excited she gets and yells "dada" while she runs to me (she used to know I am mama) is the best moment in my day

 

Or when I put her to bed 15 minutes early because neither her or I can take one more minute...

and thirty minutes goes by and I start saying things to Zach like

 

"Did you see how she ran off and peed on the floor? She is so stinking cute."

 

or

 

"I cant believe she threw away our keys! That was hilarious."

 

Then I get one of those minutes and I dont seem to remember how stressed, frustrated, and exhausted I was for most of the day.

All I remember is how funny and cute my little girl is or all the things that werent so cute during the day all of the sudden seem adorable.

All I remember is the love, joy, and fullness she brings to my life.

 

 

Then I sit in awe and think that about how through Charlotte, God has given me a glimpse of His love for me.

 

 

I cant do anything for Him.

Im completely helpless.

I get into things Im not supposed to.

I follow Him around, whining and crying.

I do things He tells me not to

because it's my life and He surely just doesnt understand that I know better.

I make a mess of my life.

I break His heart...

 

and at the end of the day when I go to Him and tell Him I'm sorry

 

He tells me it's already forgiven.

He has already forgotten

and all He remembers is the love, joy, and fullness of heart I bring Him.

 

 

It's a beautiful picture.

 

 

 

 



My Battle with Clinical Depression

This was never something I intended to share publicly like this until this week.

While reflecting on all of the people I have known through friends, who was a friend, or who was family in my life and whom I loved that have either attempted or was successful with suicide, the Lord put it on my heart to share my story.

Its not pretty...in the beginning...or in the middle...but let me tell you, the ending is beyond the description of beautiful.

Over the last year, I have realized through people encouraging me with their stories of their darkest hours that there is something so beneficial and healing in transparency. So I am going to share about the most terrible time in my life, as prompted by God, in hopes that if there is one person out there that stumbles upon my tiny blog and reads this story-that they walk away from their computer encouraged and filled with hope.

Depression is no stranger to me. I experienced my first major depressive episode when I was a senior in high school. It was pretty short lived because I received medical attention quickly because my parents recognized the symptoms. I was on medication for near two years when I felt I had been healed by God and stopped cold turkey (I don't recommend this, it isn't safe). I was off for nearly two years and I was the happiest I had ever been in my life.

What I did not realize was that being healed from one depressive episode does not always mean that you wont ever encounter depression again.

Two weeks before Charlotte was born my life went to hell in a hand basket. My world fell from beneath my feet.

My marriage went to crap.

My extended family went to crap.

And my mental health was on its way in that direction as well.

Then I found out that Zach would be going to Afghanistan three months after our daughter was born.

What a better time for all hell to break loose than when you are two weeks from giving birth and entering into the life altering responsibility of parenthood?

None, of course.

If you read my birth story then you also know that mine and Charlotte's postpartum experience wasn't ideal.

Once we got home, things started to even out and feel better emotionally.

One of the reasons why was because I did what I tend to do when faced with something that hurts, I did not face it.

(some advice- that strategy does not work lol)

Instead of dealing with the sin that had ripped apart my marriage I decided to ignore it and the fact that the man I loved so deeply was getting ready to leave me for 6 to 7 months for war.

Three months flew by.

I held my tiny, almost 3 month old in my arms as we watched Zach ride away on a bus to be taken to the airport where he would then make the long trip to Afghanistan.

My sweet mother-in-law flew in and made the exhausting 26 hour drive home with Charlotte and I to Kansas.

After the second day of driving (which was 16 hours straight) I finally made it into Wichita and was about 5 minutes from my parent's home when I received a phone call. My brother told me my parents had a fight, my dad left, and it probably wasn't the greatest idea to come home just then.

That night started the long divorce process and deterioration of my family.

Thankfully, I love my in-laws deeply and they were more than happy to let Charlotte and I stay with them.

Which I decided would be best as I was trying to preserve what ever sanity I had left.

However, this decision did not make everyone happy and in fact I was accused of "abandoning" my family by family members.

What they did not realize was the extent to which I was suffering and I did what I had to do for my family-that now consists of Zach and Charlotte.

So with all the stress of a season of trial in my marriage, becoming a new mom, going through deployment, and my parent's divorce, coupled with the fact that I was suffering from postpartum depression caused me to spiral.

My daily stress translated into insomnia.

Charlotte woke up every 45 minutes for nights on end but even when she did sleep...I did not.

I laid in bed and literally shook with anxiety and cried out to God over and over to bring my husband home and take me back to California.

I was convinced that if this happened, everything would be better.

Well, God is faithful and He answered my prayer...not in the way I had anticipated, however.

Four months into deployment, Zach's dad went into cardiac arrest and nearly died. The fact that he did not was a miracle and an answer to thousands of prayers.

After two weeks of Zach home in Kansas, we drove back to California.

Where I realized I was wrong.

Things did not get better, in fact they got much more difficult.

Back in California, Zach and I had to face reality.

We had to fix our broken marriage with serious help from God and loving encouragement from friends and family.

We had to try to remember how to be a family after being separated for four months.

And I had to learn to be a mom on my own for the first time without my mother-in-law there to take Charlotte when I needed a nap or a break.

Even after Zach and I worked through things and God completely restored our marriage to something better than it had ever been, I was not ok.

I did not realize at the time that I had had post partum depression all along and was now spiraling quicker into what would later be diagnosed as a severe, major depressive episode.

Zach would come home from work and I would be laying in my pajamas on the floor.

The house was a disaster and I never made dinner.

He would ask me what I did during the day and I honestly could not tell him because my severe depression was causing memory loss.

There are actually many gaps in my memory from May to the end of October because I was so depressed.

My insomnia worsened.

I went on a two week span where I did not get more than 3 hours of broken sleep every night.

I had panic attacks daily.

I could not sleep.

I could not eat.
When I did eat, I vomited everything up.

I got down to nearly 100 pounds.

All I could talk about was how sad I was. So sad that my bones physically ached with the pain of depression.

Zach did not know what to do. He loved me and held me and encouraged me and was so very patient when I know he had to be so stressed because there was nothing he could do.

I would sit up in bed at night and he would roll over and hold me and ask me what was wrong and I would sob hysterically telling him how scared I was....when I had nothing to be scared of.

The depression was causing irrational terror.

Every day I called someone.

I had a list of people I would call while Zach was gone to talk to because I simply could not mentally handle being alone.

I felt as though the depression was actually affecting my vision.

Every light  was too bright and I constantly felt disoriented.
I wish I could find the words to describe how it felt. It was constant, relentless misery.

I prayed constantly and journaled to God crying out for help.
I posted scripture up around my house and read it out loud to myself.

I lived with my nose in my Bible because it was the only life line that reached into the deepest, darkest pit I had ever fallen into.
Finally, I set aside everything that I was trying to do to fix it on my own. I cried out to God and told Him that I gave every aspect of my life to Him 2 years ago and a huge aspect of my life at that point was severe depression. I told Him that I gave control to Him to heal and restore me and that I would not take a step in any direction that He did not lead me to.

That very same day my Pastor's wife texted me and told me there was a Christian therapist that attended our church and was a part of the prayer team that she wanted me to meet.
She immediately took me on as a client and we met the following Wednesday. It was in that little room, sitting on a worn, blue couch, that I finally learned the truth about depression.

Depression is a disease, not a sign of weakness and it does not make you less of a person if you suffer from it. Real, clinical depression is not something you can just "suck up and get over." It is just as real as cancer or diabetes. Severe, untreated depression can turn into a downward spiral that can not be fixed on it's own and without medical help can develop psychotic features like schizophrenia or psychosis.

In 2009, nearly 37,000 Americans took their own lives. (http://www.cdc.gov/ViolencePrevention/index.html)

My therapist recommended that I see a doctor as soon as possible because she did not believe my depression was the kind of depression that would heal itself, I needed help.
For the first time, I was not ashamed to admit that I needed help. I had prayed and given my situation to God and He immediately lead me to the path of healing that He wanted me to take. After the doctors did their part in helping me, God still had a lot of work to do in me to help me completely  heal from the shadow of the valley of death.
And He did.
Because He is faithful.

Now I am happy every day. I smile and laugh...which were things I couldnt do for six months on end. My house is back in order the way I love it and Im actually cooking dinner that is edible. My marriage is now a beautiful picture of the redeeming love of Christ and I fall deeper in love with my Zach every single day. My daughter is healthy and happy and God has blessed Zach and I with another baby on the way.

If I did not have God...there is no way I would have survived the last year of my life.

I would have become like the 37,000 people who were so desperate and heart broken in 2009 that they decided life was not worth living anymore.

Im not trying to sell you on Christianity. I just want to tell you the testimony that I carry about God's love and faithfulness. Now that I am no longer depressed, I can see how God was working in every single aspect of my misery. He could have fixed everything the 2 weeks before I delivered Charlotte but He did not. At first I was angry by this, and could not understand why but now I know.

God grows and stretches you in times of brokenness.
He shows you just how frail life is and just how desperately we all need a savior.
He uses this time of vulnerability to mold and shape you into the person He destined for you to be.

If you are at this place in your life, I need you to know you are not alone. 1 in every 4 adults suffer from clinical depression.
Can I ask you a couple of things?
Please dont keep this a secret ok?
Reach out to someone that you feel safe being vulnerable with because you need support in these dark places. If you dont feel like you have anyone like that message me on facebook or email me at alexandra.klein91@yahoo.com
I will listen and pray with you.
And most importantly, cry out to Jesus. You may not feel like He is there but I promise He is right there holding you. Or maybe you don't even believe in His existence as God. If you don't believe...why not just try calling out to Him anyway? If you're in the pit then you dont have anything to lose right? I promise He will answer your call and lift you out of the darkness.

Something that helped me in my time of need was hearing this truth:

 "with Jesus, you will not stay in the valley...He will carry you through the valley."

"...weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning."

-Psalms 30:5



A Walk Down Myspace Memory Lane

After much searching, I finally found my old myspace page...

Very. Scary.

Unfortunately, I can not seem to remember my log in info to get rid of the thing.

Anyways,

I found a couple of old poems I wrote yearsss go and I was kind of impressed with the teenage me.

The poems were pretty interesting.

Full of teenage angst and hormones and the sure fact that each time my heart was broken by "the one" I was going to die.

They weren't Edgar Allan Poe quality or anything.

What impressed me the most, however, was my vocabulary. 

Apparently, pregnancy and child rearing has significantly diminished the span of my vocabulary.

Here they are though (I don't know if the grammar is correct):

Something so Stellar

If i caught that star tonight
would i be able to hold onto it tight?
If i caught this star that fell from the sky...
Would its glow never fade or never die?
No, I have never caught such a star before.
Only fakes and lack luster bores.
But this star,
this star
shines ever so brightly, glimmering slightly
in the palm of my innocuous hand.
it glistens, and sparkles
it’s tempting and lifting
me from my commonsense.
This star could be caustic...
It's burn could be tragic.
I’ve never seen such a thing before...
So profound and alluring,
My thoughts are stirring.
Should I stick to what I am sure?
And this star, is something lustrous
But not of lust itself.
No, of lust it is not, I'm sure.
In fact, to it I will hold tighter
Watching it glow effulgently
As my worries become slighter
And my soul lifts from the floor..
If it is caustic, singeing my flesh...
Remember I am a callosity.
Yes, I have been burned once before

Kiss of Death

 

Its amazing what I put myself through,

Just to draw some attention out of you.

The pain to know that I don't suffice!

I'm sick of showing the tremor of my demise.

Don't talk to me, I cant stand to hear your voice.

Its not like I have a choice,

You ramble as if someone cares,

When really no one notices you're there.

Your presence is like chewing tin foil

Or curdled milk, you're rotten and spoiled.

You're pathetic,

I can't stand it!

A waste of gorgeous flesh,

If looks could kill your name would be "Death."

But your persona is cold and dry.

That's why these tears I will no longer cry.

On a funny note,

Did anybody else do the "hey guys lets do our hair and make up and take pics for myspace" pic?

Or how about the "How many pics of just myself can I possible get on myspace?" pics?

 

 Or the ever classic "mirror pic."

  

 

One day myspace account, I will delete you (if I can ever figure it out) and myspace memory lane will be officially closed.