Out With Lanterns (Finding Myself)

There are times in your life when suddenly you realize that you must leave the path. You can no longer continue to grow on the path you are, like a dead end in a labyrinth made of hedge bushes and one just rapidly sprouted directly in front of you.

When this happens, you have no choice but to jump off the path and begin busting brush to keep yourself moving. It seems like the worst part of jumping off the path always occurs in the darkest part of the forest also. When you are barely able to see your hand in front of you, let alone the animals that hide in the dark. It's then you realize that you are going to have to find a way to not only bust that new path but see while doing so. Most often these moments happen when you are not prepared for them in the slightest. It's some random Tuesday, in a rainstorm, when you realize you are losing yourself. You look around and you do not see anything familiar anymore. You look in the mirror and you see a strange version of yourself; eyes darkened, skin pale and teeth on edge. It's then that you realize you now have only one goal: survive.

But why settle for surviving? What if instead of just getting by we put in that extra smidgen of effort to not only survive, but begin to thrive? Finding roots that hold us firmly so we can avoid losing ourselves again; instead, we can be a beacon of candlelight for others who are also lost and needing light to the path.

That is exactly where I found myself a little over seven months ago. A decision had to be made that altered everything for my family and me.  My job as a 911 Dispatcher (though I really loved what I did) had reached a point where it was not only a toxic and hostile work environment; it was literally killing me. In three years, I had gained over fifty pounds, I was constantly sick, all I wanted to do was sleep and my eating habits were insanely unregulated. I survived on caffeine and junk food and could never find a way to slow myself down enough to realize the harm it was causing on my entire home. The children (Silas and Sophie- not their real names) were having issues with being reliable because I was unreliable. My partner and I did not know how to communicate anymore, and we both felt like we were not being heard. Something had to change.

 

So off I went. As Emily Dickinson said, "I am out with lanterns looking for myself." 

We were finally able to get healthcare at the start of 2022 and appointments were made for all the things. For me, I really wanted to find an answer to why my brain seemed to become paralyzed to the point that I could no longer function on things I needed to. (Even when I wanted to.) In the weeks leading up to that I was reading a lot of information about ADHD and girls/women; especially those of us who have always been considered “weird”.  So many things clicked for me in the months of researching and when I went in for my first behavioral health appointment I was diagnosed with both ADHD and severe PTSD (childhood trauma and the trauma of the biological dad of the kids). We started me on low dosages of medicine, and I felt an improvement. A month-ish later, we added the first stimulant I have ever taken outside of caffeine. To say my brain became awake is an understatement. For the first time in my life, I could find one single train of thought in my brain and follow it.

Along with medication to treat my PTSD and then another short acting stimulant to carry me until evening time as my controlled release medication was wearing off mid-afternoon. For once I know what all those people around me meant when they said they were not thinking about anything when they zoned out. That feeling is pure bliss. What I believed to be my temper was actually anxiety and while I still have trouble with hyper fixation on something at the wrong time (i.e., hand sewing stays when I should be balancing the farm ledger), I am finding it easier to actually find my way to what I need to do. That I can set guidelines and timelines and truthfully follow them.

With deciding I was going to thrive instead of just survive, I also realized that it does not matter how weird I, or my hobbies, are. It is perfectly okay to be 35 years old and prefer to sew 18^th century clothing by hand or to want to live life as simple and traditional as possible. To prefer to slow down, go by the seasons, and realize there is truly a season for everything. That thriving doesn’t always mean adding, but often means that you need to take away. So when I was backed into the corner to the point I was going to either come out swinging or duck and run, I chose the latter. I chose to go ahead and jump on board with my five years plan and figure out a way to do it now. To be honest, the only difference between surviving and thriving is a little extra planning and will power.

So instead of spending money on take-out food when out running errands, we eat beforehand, or we bring snacks to tide us over. Instead of spending money on entertainment and electronics, we find ways to entertain that also help us save, grow, and learn. We can access the public library or shop second hand for items we really desire. We can mend and make our own clothing and create our meals from simple ingredients that provide more nutrition, so we eat less in the long run. We have had to learn that sometimes living with less is gives us more; that we can learn to be content with where we are and spend a few hours making our own candles to provide light.

Which is exactly how we went about my 36^th birthday at the beginning of December. We had farm errands that really needed to be completed and they were all within about a three-mile radius. We had a couple Parmak fence charges that needed to be repaired, needing to buy a new regulator for the welder, and we needed to swing by a piece of metal for use as a target. For my birthday present, Mr. Wildwood was going to get me something he knew I would really want. He was thinking of a new lens for my camera since I have developed such a love of photography. I really loved that idea, but I really have been wanting a handful of items that are more historical in nature to help connect me to the rhythms, ebbs, and flows of nature and the seasons. I hopped on Google and found River Market Antiques (seriously, you have to visit this place if you are ever in the Kansas City area), a four-story consignment style antique store. It almost has a bazaar feel to it with the eclectic collection of items. The most amazing part is I found everything on my list that I’ve been wanting apart from two items. I found my handbasket, my wool fabric for a petticoat, an older biscuit cutter, a darning egg, tailor’s ham, an old wool blanket to make cloak, and the one thing I was wanting most…...

A colonial style candleholder!

Brass shield, a wooden base with iron handle, lights up a room so perfectly. It has become one of my favorite evening rituals and I would be quite content if the lights went out and I was forced to live by candlelight. It’s with this candleholder and the light that comes from it that I have found my way to the footpath I am meant to be on and will continue to use to light it through all the changes I have yet to experience. Like the seed that’s planted and then blooms, from the dark, tangled forest my lantern guides my way.

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