Category: grief

grief, Love, Mental Health, parenting, Prayer

Why I choose to believe

Katrina Russell

Let me start by saying that I only converted to Catholicism 8 years ago, and even then it was more of a tradition than anything else. My grandmother was born from Irish immigrants, and for those who don’t know, they are wicked Catholic…. at least the good ones are. My grandfather was Protestant, but he went out for cigarettes when my dad was a kid and I never met him.

My dad was raised in Catholic school, so he hated religion, nuns, rulers…. discipline… pretty much everything about it. My mom was one of those Protestants that I had mentioned and she went bonkers after I was born. I’m not saying that to be hyperbolic, she was actually diagnosed with schizophrenia. She talked a lot about God and how God used to tell her things, so my relationship with God was a little strained as a child.

My father did understand the importance of the Bible and its teaching. He understood its place in our society and the laws, rules and ethics that it taught. He didn’t talk to me about religion per say, but he read to me from the children’s’ Bible when I was small. I mostly have memories of snuggling on the couch with him and not understanding why Joseph’s brothers were so horrible. This was a very important memory to me though because in general my father didn’t read to me, so the fact that he took the time to do that with this book meant it must have been important.

I didn’t judge people who were religious. In fact my dad used to encourage me to check out different religions and see if any of them fit. I understood that my problems with religion itself had more to do with my mother and her psychosis than the religion itself, but for a long time people who talked about Jesus really freaked me out. When it was time to baptize my son I knew that I wanted him to be Catholic like my grandmother, who had passed away at that point. I had been baptized myself as a baby, but never any other formal religious teaching.

When I thought about which school in my area that I wanted my son to go to; I knew that I didn’t want him to go to the local public school where some of my friends taught and complained about how dangerous it was. I knew that I wanted him to go to the local Catholic school. Again, at this point religion was just background. As a person who studied history in college and has a general obsession with it and archeology (I blame Indiana Jones) I spent a lot of time watching documentaries and reading things about the history of the Bible and the archeological proof that has been discovered that backed up many of the stories. In general I was always fascinated by the time period, but never put a lot of effort in learning about the text itself. God was more of an idea from the past that helped other people, but didn’t really seem needed today.

Then my dad died, and I felt comfort in the fact that there was an afterlife and that I would see him again one day. Then his long-term girlfriend died, and I was glad that at least they were together. Then my dog died, and I thought that he could keep them company for the decades that it would be until we would reunite. Don’t get me wrong, I was devastated, but knowing that God is out there, knowing that my dad could look down on us and see my son and the wonderful little boy that he was becoming made that horrible year more bearable.

The following year my son started at the Catholic school and I became heavily involved. I volunteered whenever I could, and decided that if he was going there it would be best if we went to church on Sunday, especially the church that was attached to the school. I realized how much I wanted my son to have faith. I wanted him to feel comforted as much as I do.

This was 7 years ago. My son is now 10 and we still attend church every Sunday. He belongs to the choir, I teach a CCD class, and he attends his own. He has gotten his 1st communion, and we volunteer when we can. I love joining the Bible study classes. Our faith has become a huge part of our life. I don’t have a lot of time to read, but I listen to the Bible on Audible, and I love listening to commentary from all kinds of people about how they interpret The Word, and the stories being portrayed.

I have begun to realize how amazing The Bible actually is. How much was wisdom was articulated in that book that people today are still figuring out. Knowing that this book came from a time when a lot of people thought the sun traveled around the earth by a man pulling a chariot. This book talks about how everyone is created in Gods image and therefore just as important as anyone else. It talks about how, even though slavery is a norm at this time for many reasons, slaves must still be treated as fellow humans and given all the rights thereof. It talks about how children should honor their fathers as much as their mothers and how parents don’t have the right to kill their children even id they have done something wrong. It talks about how to live a successful life in any time.

The Israelites, or Jews as they are known today, have been laughed at, persecuted, and blamed for all the wrongs of the world, because, it seems no matter what wrong happens in the world they still manage to thrive. People think this is because they are “obviously stealing from everyone else” when in reality it is because they are working hard and taking care of each other as the Bible told them to.

A lot of Christians today want to discount the Old Testament, which I don’t understand. They seem to forget that Jesus was Jewish and specifically said that he was there in accordance with the law. In Matthew he said…

17 Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets: I am not come to destroy, but to fulfill.

18 For verily I say unto you, Till heaven and earth pass, one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be fulfilled.

There are a lot of people today who hate the fact that God asks things of us. They hate the fact that God lets bad things happen to us. They feel that God should be there personal valet and should be there to do their bidding, and that is the only way that God can prove himself.

I know so many people who either don’t believe or they hate God because bad things have happened to them, or because bad things happen in general. I know so many people who think they are getting punished by God because they haven’t been following His laws and their life is not the way they wish it to be. I know so many people who think that they have screwed up too much that God could never forgive them. My response is to that is that God is Our Father who art in Heaven. As our father He gives us His rules. He lets us know the best way to live a good life, and the things that we should concentrate on to get said life. What He doesn’t do is prevent us from experiencing our consequences.

Maybe I understand this because I was raised by a single dad. I didn’t have the mom around to coddle me, and protect me from myself. If I chose to climb a tree too high and fell out I was also the one who had an ice pack on my ankle later. If I chose to ran through the woods for the umpteenth time in shorts that summer then I was the one sitting out of the pool covered in pink stuff while still itching. My dad told me not to do things. He told me how to behave, but ultimately it was my decision and I had to deal with it. Occasionally he would see that I got in over my head and help me out, but that was few and far between.

The one thing he always did, no matter how much my brother and I screwed up. The one thing I never had to worry about, was that he loved us. He forgave us, and he gave us the opportunity to make better choices in the future. The reason that I believe in God is because I believed in my father. I believed in a relationship that is so much stronger than one could imagine. Now that I am a mother I know how much I love my son. I know that there is nothing he could do to make me not love him, but knowing that his father died of a drug overdose, I know that sometimes the ones you love can make choices that aren’t safe, and aren’t good to be around.

The reason that I believe in God is because God made us in His image. God made us knowing that we would screw up, and that life would be hard sometimes, but God made us because He knew that it would be worth it in the end. Just like my dad made me and just like I made my son. So many people today don’t want to have children because its expensive, or climate change, or some other material issue…. but for those of us who believe in God and know how much bigger life really is. We know that God made us, because it’s worth it. Love always is.

Addiction, grief, Homeless

We need to talk about men and mental health

Katrina Russell

Let me start by saying that I didn’t know the man. I only watched him on TV and have no understanding of what his life was like, but for anyone to think that suicide is the only answer is just sad to me.

The other day as I was carelessly scrolling I saw in my news feed that Billy Miller had died. Unless you’re a middle aged woman who was raised with a grandmother or mother watching soap operas you probably don’t know who he is. I, however, fit into that category and had quite the crush on his Ritchie Novak character when he was on All My Children. Of course he was the bad boy and did horrible things, but he was hot and made the show fun.

When he took over the role of Jason Morgan on General Hospital I was both heartbroken that the real Jason wasn’t coming back, but somewhat excited to see Billy again. I am strictly an ABC soap watcher and I know he played a Billy on another soap on some other channel, but that’s none of my business. He did a really good job in the role and the writers actually did a great job of rewriting his character when Steve Burton came (he had a twin… cuz of course he did). I was sad when he was written off and then when he was replaced, though I do love Cameron Mathison and what he has brought to the role, but this is not supposed to be about my old lady appreciation for soap operas.

The other night when I was laying in bed scrolling my feed I saw that Billy Miller had died. I was surprised. He was a young guy; only 43. He had a decent career, and all of his soap friends were Xing messages about their love for him. He was wicked attractive and seemed, on the outside to have everything going for him. I wondered if it was an accident, or you know… a sudden heart attack or stroke which seems so common today. Maybe it was an accidental overdose. I know from experience they can how many people are afflicted with that horrible disease.

The next day I read about his battle with bi-polar disorder. It was a little surprising to read about. There are other actors on the show who have been open about their illness, and a lot of celebrities today have come out in order to spread awareness, but I didn’t know the man, and to be honest I don’t usually look into the actors’ personal lives because that can sway my opinion on their characters, but still he always seemed so happy.

I guess that is the point of my writing. I finally heard that he killed himself. “They always seemed so happy”, is something often said about those who end up committing suicide. I don’t know if they are good at hiding it, or if people just don’t bother to really pay attention. After you always hear about people looking back and trying to figure out if there were signs, but that seems pointless.

In the US men make up 75% of all suicides, while in Europe it is more like 80%. However men are half as likely to seek mental health treatment than women. These statistics are obviously correlated, but why is a bigger question. Are men not seeking treatment and therefore just deciding to kill themselves? Are men seeking treatment but being told by both society and more than likely the feminist psychologist who they seek treatment from that their problems don’t really matter because they are some sort of oppressive class that needs to apologize for how they treat everyone else? Are they just diagnosed and handed a bottle full of pills and told that will make them feel better? If that’s the case men are also dying from drug overdoses 2-3 times more than women. This may be the reason why almost twice as many men are homeless compared to women.

Men are constantly being told that they need to talk about their feelings at the same time being told that their feelings are invalid and that the things that they care about are evil and the patriarchy. Men talk about how they feel useless because they lose or can’t get a job and can’t provide for their families. They feel emasculated because they can’t find a woman worthy of marriage. They feel pathetic because they aren’t living up to their vision of what they feel their lives should be. Then they are told that they have no right to feel these ways. That they should take a back seat to the woman’s needs. That they shouldn’t even try to “subjugate” a woman by marrying her and “forcing her to have his babies and be a slave”.

When in a relationship men are constantly getting flack if they want to spend time with their friends over their wife and kids sometimes, and yet women can’t wait for their girl time. Women spend hours on the phone with friends or when they become moms they spend hours in the playgrounds or at coffee shops with their friends setting up playgroups for their kids.. men work, and when they want to do something with their friends in their spare time the are guilted by the woman for not being home.

Men are told they are stupid. They are told their opinions don’t matter… today they are told they are born evil just because they are men. It’s like the new version of “original sin”. There’s nothing a man can do to be considered a good person in some eyes, and when they ask for help they are “helped” into more misery by being told by society to aim for the frivolous. They shouldn’t want relationships or kids, they should want a revolving door of women, then they are told by society that they are evil for using women.

If they do get married they have no real rights. If the woman cheats and divorces him then he loses half of his money and possessions. If the couple had kids they automatically end up with the ex wife, that is if the ex allowed his children to be born in the first place and didn’t murder them in the womb. Men have no “privilege” in the eyes of family court, and yet they are constantly labeled oppressors for wanting basic respect.

Women have loads of problems navigating the world, I’m not trying to deny that, but people have to realize that men do too. Too many of our brothers, sons, husbands, and fathers are losing the battle. They are killing themselves, overdosing, or just ending up in jail because society has turned their backs on teaching them what it really means to be a man, and if we’re not careful it’s going to spread to women not understanding what they bring to the table as well, and all of society will crumble.

photo of woman kneeling in front of gravestone
Giving, grief, Love, Mental Health, parenting

Life after Parents.

Katrina Russell

I see it on social media a lot. A meme that goes something like, “You taught me everything except how to live without you, mom”. I get the idea. I have lost my parents. My son has lost his father. There has been a lot of loss in my life. I miss them every day, but statements like that actually make of my father. Not in the way that you would expect. In fact, the opposite.

I loved my dad. I still love my dad. He was a single parent who raised us in the 70s-90s when single dads just wasn’t a thing. He was one of the strongest people I know. The only one who came close way my Grams who was also a single parent in the 50s and 60s, also when it wasn’t really a thing. My Grams raised my dad to be strong and independent, and though she was always there to help out and take us kids on weekends and vacations (she lived for those times). She also made sure that he was capable of handling it all on his own when he had to.

My dad helped me a lot. He did, and I could never deny that, but the one thing he always told me was that a parent’s job was to raise their children to NOT need them. To raise their children to be independent, because one day the parent would not be there, and the child will become a parent themself and have someone else who needs to be taught the same. “Independence is the greatest gift a parent can give a child.”. It sounds great now, not so much when I was hobbling home from school in the snow… on crutches. But I did it. I got home. I made my way by myself. “There is nothing that you can’t do if you put your mind to it.”. These are the types of phrases that I grew up listening to.

There were a lot of hard times for both my brother and me. We struggled, and we persevered. I admit, I had way more help along the way than my brother did. I think that went along with me being a girl and my dad assuming I would have a man to help me as I got older as well. Well, as of now I do not have a man. I do not have my father. Before I turned 40 I was a single mom and, for all intense and purposes, an orphan. My dad had given me great training though.

When he was sick, I moved back in with him. I helped him with medication. I took him to doctors and hospitals and called the EMTs when necessary. I turned into his emergency contact, and his proxy when he went under for surgery. He was a great father who taught me how to be a great mother. When he died, I was devastated. How could I live without my dad? But I did. I did every day. I got up, took care of my own son. Cleaned out my father’s house. I went to the lawyers to deal with his paperwork. I even took over his business for a while when it suited my needs.

My dad taught me everything. Including how to live without him. It’s not something that I ever wanted, but it was something that everyone knows is going to happen. Many people today do their best to protect their children from anything that may hurt them but hurt is part of living. One day we wake up and we don’t have our parents. One day we wake up and we are the parents. We have to figure it all out. We have to find our own way. Having parents that teach us that we can; that we are capable; that we are strong, those are the best parents. I hope I’m doing that for my son, and I hope he continues to do it for his children.

Being parents, raising kids that are ready and able to take on what the world throws at them. That’s the real struggle, and that’s the real joy. People are always wondering what it’s all for… well that’s what I have found to be it. Making the world that much better, by making a person that is that much better for it.

people wearing diy masks
Addiction, bullying, grief, Healthcare, Mental Health, parenting, Politics

Death Happens

Katrina Russell

I don’t know what has been going on in the last couple years that suddenly we can’t go back to normal until all death has been stopped. Well, all covid deaths. They are willing to let kids kill themselves, and overdose on drugs. They are willing to take dying people off of transplant lists if they don’t conform to their politics, because none of that matters except stopping anyone from ever dying of Covid-19 again. We need to stop death itself… in the case of Covid-19 anyway.

The problem is no one can stop death. The more we try the worse it gets. People are becoming obsessed with death. With Covid death specifically. People have locked themselves in their house. They refuse to see family and friends. They won’t work. They won’t go outside in the fresh air for fear it may be contaminated.

Obesity is the number one killer in this country (the US), and yet because of lockdowns weight gain has been skyrocketing. Everyone is so afraid of catching Covid they are making themselves more vulnerable to it. And let’s be honest, when it comes to weight gain Covid is the least of people’s problems. With everyone so obsessed with controlling “The Spread” people have paid no attention to the real killers in this country. Heart Disease, Cancer, and Diabetes are still high on the list.

People are so fearful to live they are missing out on life. When I talk to others about it they say that I can’t possibly understand because I don’t have anyone in my life to worry about. I’ve already lost them all. My grams, and father’s s/o died of Alzheimer’s, my dad died of Diabetes, my mom died of pneumonia, and my son’s father died of a drug overdose. They are right. I’m not scared of a virus. I’m not scared of a cold. I know that life is short, and anything can take anyone at any time.

When my loved ones died, I didn’t fight for the government to make us wear masks so no one would get pneumonia. I didn’t fight for the government to impose restrictions on sugary foods and mandate exercise to prevent Diabetes. I didn’t fight for the government to not allow anyone treatment if they made choices that the government disagreed with. My father ended up with type 1 diabetes, it wasn’t all personal choices, but he still could have taken care of it better. My son’s father was an addict… that’s all lifestyle. Yet the same people saying that no one who doesn’t choose vaccination should be treated, because it’s they’re fault… yet, most heart disease, diabetes, cancer, and certainly addiction is, if not caused, compounded by personal choices. No one would expect the government to not treat or lock down or not give passports to be in society to those with these lifestyle diseases. Don’t even get me started on STDs.

We are never going to stop death. We are never going to save everyone. We are never going to fix the world. The best we can do is live in it, and that starts by opening our doors, taking off the damn masks, and seeing each other again. Before we all die of old age.

close up photo of woman with her hands tied with rope
Addiction, bullying, grief, Law of Attraction, Love, Mental Health

Trauma… the badge of honor

Katrina Russell

When did trauma become the cool thing? Now don’t get me wrong, I understand that people have trauma, but trauma is a horrible thing. Trauma is not something that you want wish upon your worst enemy. Most people have had some sort of trauma in their life and it’s all relative. I was in a pretty bad custody battle as a child. I lived in a car with my mom. My parents had a tug-o-war over me in the streets. I was kidnapped by my mom and brought to live in a church commune…. you know… a cult. These things can be pretty traumatic, but they all ended. Eventually these things stopped, and my dad got total custody and only allowed my mom to visit when he was around.

I had an older brother… on occasion he liked to kick the crap out of me. On occasion we played fanciful games together and had a great time. When we got to our teen years he fought with everyone a lot and ended up moving out at 17. I was 14. I remember having the guidance counselor at school try to talk to me about it. How was it affecting me? What could she do to help? That was easy, I was sad. I missed him, but there was nothing to be done until he came back. It was a little over a year before we heard from him again. I remember answering the phone when he called and being overwhelmed with emotions.

I dated jerk guys and nice guys. I had friendships fall apart and new one’s spring out of nowhere. I was unemployed, underemployed and worked too many jobs to count. My best friend became an alcoholic and I had to help her ex take care of their kids I lost my Grams and got married and divorced… and this was all in my 20s. (well, divorced in my early 30s)

By my mid-30s I felt like I was getting my s**t together. I was dating a great guy. We were talking about starting a family. I had a great job in an industry that I loved…. what could go wrong? Well, everything. By the end of my 30s I had found out that my mom, who I hadn’t heard from in years, was dead. I had my baby boy, whom I love more than anything in the multiverse, but his father had relapsed into a spiraling drug induced state… and when I was 39, I woke up one morning to find my father had died in his sleep. Eight months later his longtime girlfriend died as well… on my birthday, and a little over a month later, 2 days before Christmas, on my nephew’s birthday… I watched my dog get hit by a car. Since then, I went through a long custody battle of my own with my son’s father that culminated in him losing his battle with that said addiction… thankfully it was a few years later.

Why am I telling you all of this? Well, I got my son a therapist. Losing his Papa and then the on again off again of his Da who finally died he was having some behavioral issues in school and a good healthy case of separation anxiety whenever he left my side. I call it healthy, because that’s what it was. It was his way of working out the things that he needed to work through.

I remember talking to his therapist about everything and her saying something along the lines of, “You’ve been through a lot, but unlike other people they aren’t things that you do that cause the problems. It’s things that just happen to you”. And she was right. The school councilor back in the day wanted to know how to help me. But there was nothing that could be done. My pain hadn’t come from anything that I did. It came from something that happened to me. My parents dying. My son’s father dying. Problems with exes, these were all the results of other people’s actions. Some people would find that disheartening. Some people would look at their trauma and their “victim status” as a reflection if not an identity of themselves. They would feel as if the world was against them and hold onto that trauma like an award that was given to them to prove how special they were.

I don’t see trauma in that way. I certainly don’t see bad things that happen to me as a reflection of me at all. I didn’t cause my parents to divorce, or my brother to leave, or my son’s father to do drugs, or my parents to die. These are things that other people have done that affect me but does in no way embody me. I am who I am despite all of these things happening around me and to me. I am who I am because of all of the things that happen around me and to me. It doesn’t do anyone any good to create a persona of trauma and hold onto it so tightly that it drowns you.

Trauma happens to everyone. I have been through my share, but it is nothing compared to what others have been though and its way more than some can imagine. Letting it dictate my life only lets the trauma and those perpetrating that trauma on you win. I’m not saying it’s easy to let it go. I’m saying its necessary if you want to move forward with your life. Somewhere along the line in our society it because desirable to be damaged. To prove that you have it worse than others. It gives you an excuse to not try, not do, not be…. everything that you can be because someone else broke you.

Bad things happened to you. I’m sorry. I truly am. But unless you want to live the rest of your life miserable and giving your power over to those that hurt you then you need to stand up and take your power back. You need to forgive those who caused you pain… and let go of what’s been drowning you.

Addiction, grief, Mental Health, parenting

Just trying to make sense of it all.

Katrina Russell

Conversation with my 7 year old son tonight.

Jason: if you and Da never got married how did you make me?

Me: we just loved each other that much

Jason: and then you didn’t?

Me: we still did. We just couldn’t keep living together

Jason: because he did drugs

Me: yeah, it wasn’t safe

Jason: because if I grew up seeing him do drugs I might do drugs and think it’s ok?

Me: well, that’s one reason.. but he also wasn’t very safe when he used them

Jason: yeah.. like when he punch the wall and stuff. He was really strong. He could hurt someone

Me: thankfully he didn’t.. but we couldn’t have him live with us… But we still loved him and he still loved us

Jason: ok

Addiction, grief, Love, Mental Health, parenting

Celebrating Life Even When It’s Over

Katrina Russell

My son’s father’s birthday was March 8.. it was a really hard day. My son just turned 7 a couple weeks before and now he was to celebrate his Da.. only his Da died almost 7 months ago.

It’s hard to explain death to a small child. It’s so final. It so big. But my son… he knows death. He has lived through the death of too many loved ones at his young age. When I told my son of his father’s death he was shook.. he was sad.. he was mad.. he was… well, he just was. This was his life now. He no longer had his Da. He never would again. He didn’t have his Da to go Trick or Treating with. He didn’t have his Da at Thanksgiving. He didn’t have his Da at Christmas or his own birthday.. but on March 8.. we were celebrating the birth of a man that didn’t get any older.

This was Da’s first birthday since his death day.. which I have no idea how I’m going to deal with.. but I still felt like the day should be observed. I still felt like my son should have the opportunity to celebrate the life that his Da had. No matter how sadly it ended.

One of Da’s favorite places to go was Castle Island. It’s a little beach area in South Boston, MA. It was a place that he remembered as a child and he loved sharing it with our son. We would go there for most special occasions. Last memorial day was our first chance to actually get a tour of the fort that is there. We spent most father’s days there and it held a lot of memories of the two of them together. I thought it would be a wonderful to memorialize him.

My son made a card for his Da and we tied it to a balloon and we attempted to send it off. I know.. horrible for the environment. Not really my priority at the moment. I’m going to be honest. So my little 7 year old stood in the middle of the ocean bridge and sent his balloon up to heaven for his Da… and it sunk. And my brave little boy was sad… but he knew that no matter what his Da loved him and knew how much he loved his Da.. and after all was said and done my 7 year old little boy was stronger than I’ve ever been.

Watch “Saying happy birthday to heaven” on YouTube

grief, Love

My dad died 5 years ago today

Katrina Russell

It was 5 years ago today that we lost my dad. I remember waking up that Saturday morning and seeing his truck outside. He was supposed to have left early that day. He was going “yard sailing” and had to be out the door before  dawn.

walk with papaI was not an early riser. It was probably around 9 am… though the specifics are fuzzy. My 2 year old son had just woken up and I needed his diaper changed. He had climbed up on the changing table himself and I happened to look out the window that was next to the changing table. There was my dad’s truck. In the driveway. Not out driving around looking for treasures.

I felt a slight twinge of panic. My father had severe diabetes and his sugar levels were always wonky. I was hoping that he just chose to stay home because it was raining that day. I went downstairs looking for him and eventually found my way to his bedroom. I called to him multiple times, but he never answered. He never would again. I turned the corner and saw him. It was like something out of a movie. He was clearly gone. His mouth was open.. his eyes were open, but it was clear that he was not behind those eyes.

I ran to him. I checked to see if he was breathing. I shook him. I screamed… but I knew he17923_10151515250461602_1693194054_n was gone. There was no CPR. There was no call to EMS. Nothing was going to bring my father back. The man that had been there for me my entire life was gone. The man who used to hold me when I cried. The man who kissed my boo boos. The man who tucked me in. The man who made my dinners and gave me my tubbies.. and read me bedtime stories. The man who was always there to listen to me babble on during my childhood.. and even worse.. during my teen years. The man who I went to for all of my problems, and the man who was starting to come to me for his. He was gone. I was alone. I was scared, and 5 years later. I still am.

People talk about grief, but until you live through it you will never understand. For weeks I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I cried without even realizing. There is about 6 months of my life that I don’t remember. I carried on. I had to. I had my job. I had my son. I had my life that I had to live. My father died 5 years ago today, and I miss him every bit as much now as I did then.