Anyone who follows this blog or knows me personally knows that many aspects of my life have been less than ideal. My earliest memories include snapshots of the poverty, abuse and loss that continued throughout my life; like a movie reel on repeat … only the years and the characters changed as my life evolved. Mental illness and substance abuse have plagued generation after generation of my family and its heartbreaking inevitability in our genetic make-up, no matter how educated one becomes, yields to a feeling of helplessness at times. And sometimes, even sheer “bad-luck” and accidents seem unfairly distributed.
For a long time, I was angry. I was angry that we were poor. I was angry that genetics and a lack of resources led to significant loss in my life. I was angry that my parents were rigid in their rules and discipline. And I was even more angry that those rules felt imbalanced with their display of love and affection. I was angry that I had to work so hard for things that others were simply handed. And as life continued and loss and abuse found me yet again as an adult, this time outside the context of my family, I was again angry. Angry that sick people continued to spread their sickness to those around me. Angry that myself and others were seen as objects instead of people. I hate being hurt and I hate disappointment. My disdain for those two things have changed the way I see and deal with the world. And yet they are an unavoidable part of life. As I grew, I was faced with the challenge of handling my hurt and disappointment without allowing anger to consume me.
I needed to grow as a person, to accommodate my pain and disappointment without becoming bitter. I knew that the Scrooges and Grinchs in life were simply people who were hurting. I understood them but I didn’t want to end up like them. Why are some people destroyed by their pain whilst others are able to use tragedy as a catalyst for positive change? Well, ongoing and effective therapy and treatment is certainly a must. An end to the causative factors and proper support too, yield to higher success rates and recovery. And sometimes, I simply think personality and a strong constitution determined by genetics give some people a “one-up” in life. They are the “survivors”, the “soldiers” in life.
I have done the things I mentioned above. I’ve gone through therapy and encourage others to do the same. I have removed myself from environments and people who cause me pain and I have built myself an army of people who love me and support me and understand me. I have fought tirelessly to create a different life for my children than the one I had. And I do believe I have done well. In many ways, I believe I have altered the course of my future. My life, my marriage, my professional success is much more positive than I ever imagined it could be. And I’ve managed to raise kind and sensitive children too. And yet genetics and cycles of abuse always seem to find a way of sneaking back in. There is no way to completely wash your hands of your past. You must embrace the ways it has changed you and then fight to make those effects positive ones.
So how does one deal with this on the day-to-day? Outside of the therapy couch, how does one cope with the reminders of life’s unfairness? Well, after the anger, after you’ve yelled and screamed and cried yourself to depletion … you start to heal and then,
You find a way to give thanks.
One by one you face your demons and you pull them apart and you find a positive thread wherever you can. Because with every negative, there’s a positive. And with every tear drop, somewhere we can find a reason to smile.
I am thankful that I know and understand persons with addiction and I am thankful not to be plagued with the same. This has allowed me to help countless friends and patients who suffer from this disease and to see all people as humans, no matter how flawed. We all have different demons, addiction is only one of them.
I am thankful that I know the pain of being picked last. I was never the popular kid. I have explained this feeling to my children and always encouraged them to include others and to treat people with kindness and fairness. While the honor roll is a rare occurrence in my home, I am frequently stopped by parents and teachers who tell me “You have really nice kids.” I thank the universe for the pain that allowed me to build “nice kids.”
I am thankful that I grew up with less money than the average person. It motivated me to work hard and to have a different life. Going to the same family beach house every year created wonderful memories but it also motivated me to travel more, to see the world beyond my little neighborhood. Had my grandparents not bought the bay-side trailer that they did, I’m not sure we’d have ever had a vacation. Poverty encouraged me to strive for better things, not to settle for complacency. And it taught me to appreciate the things that I have. In a culture of disposability and instant gratification and entitlement, I am thankful to have lived with less. Everything I have, I have earned. Poverty taught me to make-do and to take road trips … two of my better skills!
I am thankful that I know the face of mental illness because I know it isn’t what the world as a whole thinks it is. It is much more “normal”, much more beautiful, much more complicated than the world recognizes. I am thankful that I can see both its beauty and its complexity and yet understand the pain it causes as well. Seeing it, recognizing it, is the first step in treating it. Knowledge is power. And early intervention is key. I am thankful that I know mental illness when I see it. And I am thankful that I don’t contribute to its stigma and that I am a safe place for those who are suffering. You can’t change your genetics but you can use them to identify and treat a problem when you see it. I am thankful for the insight to intervene sooner.
I am thankful that I learned how to work hard from an early age. I started working at the age of 12. That made working four jobs in college a doable task. And working four jobs while in college full-time, made working three jobs as a mom, plausible. Being a hard worker always pays off. I am thankful that I learned how to be a hard worker.
I am thankful that I was once a dancer. While I am not everything my mother wishes I was, when I was a child, she always wanted me to be a dancer. She scrubbed the floors of the ballet studio so that I could take classes there. And when I finally stepped away from those classes, she let me, without restraint. I love dancing and will one day return to the studio. Through the art of dancing, I learned an appreciation for all of the arts – the portrayal of emotion through the movement of the body, the visual experience of colors and movement and light when they are combined, and I learned to hear music in a deep and meaningful way. I have passed my love for the arts onto my children and as much as they love to kick and flip and run, they are giddy with a trip to the theater. The arts are lenses to the beauty that lies in the world and learning to see through those lenses opens one up to seeing beauty in all things. I am thankful that I can see the beauty around me.
I am thankful that I appreciate and understand charity. Friends, family and strangers showed my family charity when we were in need and that charity that was shown to us, was in turn, shown by us, to others in need. Had we not been in need, I may not have understood just how meaningful that charity was. From my earliest years, we were blessed and we in turn, blessed others. Be it donating hand-me-downs, volunteering in soup kitchens or handing an extra sandwich to the homeless, we learned to help those in need. And by doing that, we have spread that sense of charity to others. This winter, my children piloted a homeless gift bag assembly project with their 4H club. The bags that we have been making the last four years as a family, are now multiplied by the families in 4H and many more people in need will be shown that goodness. I am thankful that my family is spreading goodness.
I am thankful that I am resilient. Suffering, though painful, once survived, creates a stronger, more resilient person. At times I worry that my children will struggle more as adults, because they haven’t had to struggle to survive their youth. And yet, I’ve used the positive struggles of my youth to teach them. They’ve learned to do chores, to wash their own laundry, to cook. I don’t take their homework up to school when they forget it and they’ve gone hungry on days that they forgot their lunch. But they still feel loved and safe. I’ve tried to allow them to struggle and work hard with my loving support and I hope that benefits them in their future. And as the heartaches of motherhood have plagued me, I remind myself that I am resilient and I am thankful to be not only a survivor, but a conqueror.
I am thankful for tradition. My family did an excellent job building and maintaining tradition. Especially around the holidays, I am thankful that my mother passed down the family recipes and set the table with glass dishes. I am thankful that my Dad used glitter glue to write each of our names on our stockings and that our Easter baskets were always homemade. I am thankful that no matter how strained we were financially, Santa and the Easter bunny always came. I am thankful for siblings to camp-out with the night before the holidays (we always slept in the same room the night before Christmas and Easter) and to share the holiday excitement with. I am thankful for large family dinners on the holidays and for the same Italian sausage from the same Italian deli every Christmas breakfast. All of these traditions, I’ve passed down to my own children and I am thankful to have them.
I am thankful that the persons who have hurt me have shown me “how not to act.” I have learned through the faults of others, how words and actions and attitudes hurt others and I have strived not to repeat their mistakes. Granted, I make many of my own mistakes and I am, for certain, a flawed individual. While the battle is a constant one, I try everything within my power not to repeat the mistakes that were made with me. And if I do … if I catch myself repeating that cycle of dysfunction, I am thankful that I have the hindsight to recognize the beast and to know what pain it causes. It is much easier to fight a beast with fervency when you know the strength of its bite. I am thankful for the insight of the aftermath of destructive behaviors.
I am thankful that I found someone who filled my empty tank of love. Physical affection and encouragement are two things my life lacked. And not because my parents didn’t want to offer them. It wasn’t shown to them and I think they didn’t know how. I could have ended up in a dysfunctional, co-dependent relationship as a result of my un-met need; but instead I found a man who showers me endlessly in the love and affection that I craved for years. He is both amazingly fulfilling and tolerant of my constant desire for physical contact and affirmation. It is no accident that I was drawn and fell in love with the latin culture because it so embodies those characteristics. I am thankful for not only a partner but a whole family of in-laws who provide me the love I need.
I am thankful that I am a young mom. A surprise pregnancy at the age of 21 meant that all of my friends were partying and traveling the globe while I simultaneously studied, lived on oatmeal and changed diapers. But that pregnancy had a way of making everything come together. My relationship was rocky, school was hard and my apartment was bare. I don’t ever recommend intentionally becoming a young and single mother. But I didn’t choose motherhood at 21, motherhood choose me. It motivated me to work harder and study harder. It taught me that all things were possible and my momma-bear instincts drew me to higher-standards. Through that dedication and hard work, I managed to create a solid relationship, a fulfilling career and two awesome kids. The hardships I battled as a young mom mean that I’ll be young enough to enjoy my independence as they age. And I am thankful for my youth as I travel the challenging road of mothering a teenager.
I am thankful for my education. At the time, I hated the uniforms, the rigid rules, the holier-than-none culture and the rich kids. I hated working every summer, only to have to use my money to buy the books for the school that I really didn’t like. But my private school education kept me in-check and it made college a breeze. And since a pregnancy complicated my educational path, I’m glad my studies weren’t any harder for me than they already were. At the age of 25, I graduated with a BSN RN and found myself gainfully employed. While my highschool education provided me a path to my college education, my college education opened my eyes to the world of science and world beliefs and cultures. It was because of the diversity of the people at my state college and the diversity of my education that I began to realize that the beliefs I was raised to embrace weren’t the only way of viewing the world and I began to find more tolerance of other cultures and belief systems. I also blossomed in my social behaviors and love for writing.
I am thankful for people. I have lost more than my share. But each person that I have lost has left an imprint on my soul and they have taught me not to take a single individual for granted. People are why we are here. People are what we live for. People shouldn’t be pushed aside. They shouldn’t be ranked in worth. Each person brings something to the table, find that thing and thank them for it. Every life carries worth. We are all temporary. Don’t live with the regret of not appreciating one’s worth while you have it. Be thankful for the people you have.
I am thankful for perspective. I am thankful that I understand first-hand that not every person who grows up on food-stamps, continues the cycle; some people just need a little help. I’m thankful that I believe women when they say ” Me too”… because I am “me too”. I am thankful that I know wonderful immigrants who help and not harm. And I am thankful that I know immigrants who have abused their privilege. I am thankful for a family of blended cultures. I am thankful for my colorful life because black and white ones are artificial and boring. Color adds depth and perspective.
So this season, be it in church, at your dinner table or simply when you are alone and you have an opportunity for self-reflection, when you are asked “What are you thankful for?” Try to think beyond your kindergarten response of “family”, “friends” and your “new puppy”. Think beyond the obvious and the easy and find a source of heartache and pain. And then break it apart. Separate it into all of its parts and see if you can find even one positive outcome that came from it. And then, find another.
We can’t change our past but we can learn from it. We can use it to empower ourselves and alter our futures. We don’t have to be a prisoner to our pain. We can use our pain as a tool to help ourselves and others. The happiest people in the world aren’t the ones who never suffered, they are the ones who in the face of suffering … learn to give thanks.
