Wellness – Page 2 – Katrina Michelle Russell

Addiction, bullying, grief, Healthcare, Mental Health, parenting, Politics

Death Happens

January 28, 2022January 28, 2022 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.

bullying, Mental Health, parenting, Politics

It’s ok to be wrong

January 27, 2022January 26, 2022 Katrina Russell

I have been told my whole life that I can’t admit to being wrong. Yet, I admit I’m wrong all the time. In fact, the same people who tell me that I can’t admit to being wrong are always making the joke of, “let me mark the calendar” or “let me get this is writing” or “let me record this”… yet, they ALWAY make this joke because I admit I’m wrong all the time.

They have confused not admitting that I’m wrong with not caving when I know that I’m right. A classic example of this is when I went to get ice cream with one of these friends. I was ordering my usual, baby peppermint stick with jimmies (chocolate sprinkles for those not in Boston). The order came to $3.10. My friend then ordered a baby peppermint stick. She had $3.00 on her and asked if I had $.10 to borrow. I told her that I had it, but that she shouldn’t need it as she didn’t get any jimmies. She responded that didn’t matter. That jimmies were free. I said that I was always charged jimmies before, but that this particular ice cream stand was a place that she frequented more than I did so maybe they didn’t charge. I got out a quarter to cover her. The ice cream kid then came back and charged her $2.80. For those who aren’t good at math, that’s less. $.30 less to be precise… which I have to say is a lot of jimmies, but alas. She then turned to me angrily saying, “You always have to be right!”.

This, I find, is the difference between someone who always has to be right and someone who is just stubborn. I will own stubborn all day long. I have my thoughts, opinions, and knowledge and I stand by them, but I don’t always have to be right. I am more than willing to change my mind when new evidence is presented.

I have spent a lot of my life in school and/or taking classes. I read constantly. I watch videos on the internet, now that it’s a thing. I love to learn new things. I am constantly getting information that I hadn’t previously had. When I enter into a conversation, I know what I know and am willing to listen to the other person to see if they have anything to offer that may change my opinion. As with the ice cream shop, I was willing to contend that I was not as familiar with that particular store and therefore may not have knowledge about their practices that my friend had.

I think I get this from my upbringing. My brother is very different than me, and therefore thinks and interacts with things very different than me. We often have conversations about subjects that I know a little about and then he informs me of things that I was never made aware of, and it shifts my perspective, and vice versa. He had no idea that babies lost all their baby teeth, even after having my son. He didn’t believe me and had to Google it… I was right… I like being right… but I don’t HAVE to be, and therein lies the difference.

Lately people have been very divided on many issues. So divided that they are not even willing to listen to the other side. Anyone who disagrees with them is just labeled either stupid or evil. The problem is that everything in life has many parts, and many layers, and no one is always right, and no one is always wrong. The best way to get to the truth is to talk with people whom you disagree and actually listen to the other side. No one wants to do this anymore.

People are now intrinsically tied to their beliefs. It has become their identity. If you dare to disagree with someone it’s as if you are degrading the person’s actual self. It is no longer about facts and information it’s about how you feel about a situation that matters. By stating facts that disagree with someone’s feelings the person feels as if the fact spouter is destroying the person that they are, instead of just an idea that can be modified.

People are downright terrified to be wrong. To have their beliefs and therefore their reality and life questioned is the same as killing them. So, it’s been termed that words are violence. If you say words that go against anything that I believe you are now trying to destroy my reality and in turn kill me. No one can be wrong. No one can be mistaken. No one can be misinformed. Everyone has to follow the same way of thought, or they are the enemy.

The thing is facts are facts. My friend who believed that there was no cost for jimmies wasn’t right just because she thought it. Had it been reversed, and she was the one to order the jimmies and therefore charged extra she still would have had to pay it no matter her belief on the matter.

It’s ok to be wrong. Everyone is wrong all the time. It is not about you. The next time you find yourself pushing back. Insulting someone or hating someone because they have information that doesn’t match your beliefs trying talking with them. Maybe you have information that they don’t, and you may change their minds… or maybe you’re just wrong. Either way you will walk away stronger, and more informed and that’s what life is about.

Healthcare, Homeless, Love, Mental Health, parenting, Politics

The American Dream

January 24, 2022 Katrina Russell

The ideal that we are all free to make our own choices and create our own future. The ideal that if someone works hard and makes good choices, they can accomplish anything that they can dream. The United States was founded on this model. For two hundred years millions of people have left their homelands in search of this endeavor. Over a million people per year are still clamoring to get in, some legally, some not, all striving for a better life than the one they left behind.

The American Dream is alive and well all over the world… except in half of Americans. The problem with the dream is the part that it’s about freedom, and choices, and hard work. Half of America was raised to believe that the American Dream was that everything was to be taken care of FOR them… not by them. Half of Americans don’t feel that people should have to work hard or accomplish anything. They feel that simply being an American should automatically give them privileges.

Half of America thinks that working is for “other people”… for “rich people”. As long as the rich have money why should anyone else have to work. The rich should just pay for everyone else. The fact that they are expected to pay back loans that they signed for in order to further their own education, or possibly have to give up on some luxuries in order to afford necessities is a form of slavery.

People love to compare the cost of housing between when “Boomers” were buying compared to now is seriously laughable. The biggest just in the market was between 1970s-1990s, when it increased by 700%, and was when the Boomers were buying. It had more to do with the tech boom and an economy that was suddenly international and an entire way of life changing than being mean to the next generation. From the 90s to today housing costs have only gone up about 100%, which is a lot less.

Of course, the same people who cry about not being able to afford housing on a single income are the same people crying about how people shouldn’t get married and that women have to work and never stay home with the kids… even though they really don’t think anyone should have to work and hate work… women should be forced to have to work because it’s men who kept them down by not letting them do the thing that everyone hates to do.

These same people are also the ones who get an upgrade on a $1000 telephone every year. Not to mention TVs, gaming systems, tablets, computers…. and on and on. Do you know what Boomers spent on Telephones and TVs? Around $20 and $160 respectively, and seeing as the average household income was about $8300 they were quite expensive. People had to save up for them… and then… that was it. They had the same phone and TV for decades. They didn’t “upgrade”, they didn’t have 30 different streaming services. They had rabbit ears, tin foil, and their youngest child to help get the one channel of the 3-5 they were trying to watch.

One way that people try to explain the unfairness is by saying that the increase in minimum wage hasn’t changed much. Which is true in some regards. The federal minimum wage in 1970 was $1.60 the current federal minimum wage is $7.25, therefore minimum wage is up 450%, which is a lot, but the most important thing is that hardly anyone makes the federal minimum wage. Each state has their own minimum wage, and most people don’t even make that.

As mentioned before the average household income in 1970 (Boomer’s time) was $8300. When accounted for inflation that changes it to $58,800 in today’s dollars, but the average income of today’s American household is actually almost $67,500 which is more. So yes, the average housing cost went up, but so did the average household income. This is also at a time when the average household income includes a lot more single people just supporting themselves and choosing not to have a family than ever before.

The difference is in spending patterns. People spend more on recreation than ever before. People take out loans for tens of thousands of dollars on a degree they have no chance at getting a career with. The American Dream has been corrupted from, “work hard, make good choices, and you can accomplish your goals” to “Do whatever you feel. You deserve everything you want, and no one should ever tell you no. If they do, they are just stealing from you.”

Now, I don’t believe that every millionaire worked hard and earned their money. The government in particular is filled with people who played the system and did steal other people’s money. I don’t care which side of the aisle they sit on. Yet somehow those same millionaire politicians who have made their money by telling you that hard working rich people are stealing your money and you need to give them more money and vote them in so they can steal even more money have convinced an entire generation that the American Dream is not real… because hard work is the invention of evil people who are stealing your money.

Here’s the thing about Capitalism and the American Dream. You don’t have to go to work and make minimum wage. You don’t have to take out loans from the government to learn the things they want to teach you. That’s just what those in charge want you to believe so they can keep making money off of you. If you want to succeed in life, you just have to follow the true American Dream path. You have to work hard. You have to sacrifice some of your now, and some of your fun for a better later. You have to make good choices with your money and with your relationships. You have to take responsibility for your life. That is what being free is all about. That is the reason that millions of people have risked their lives to come here and are still risking their lives today.

The same people who hate the American Dream are the same people fighting for others to be able to come here. They understand how dehumanizing other countries can still be. How slavery is still in existence and human rights are still quashed all over the world, and yet they complain because they have to actually sacrifice their everyday latte and upgrade to the next iPhone in order to buy a dream home. Not to get shelter, which other countries don’t have, but to buy their 3-bedroom, private back yard, and maybe a pool… DREAM home.

There’s a line in the original Matrix movie in which Mr. Smith explains to Neo that the machines had tried to create a utopia for the humans but that the humans kept waking up. They couldn’t handle it. Humans crave conflict. They need something to fight against. A lot of people just curb that need by watching dramas on TV where they root for the hero and feel justified when they win. In fact, this is a primarily American thing as well. Not all countries create movies, TV shows, books, in which the hero wins. Some people elsewhere find it quite trite, but Americans need it. Americans, on the whole, have nothing real left to fight for. We have equal rights. We have the ability to get anything we accomplish if we just work hard and make good choices. Americans are now pushing back on what has already been accomplished and blaming, not those who don’t work hard or make good choices for their problems, but those who do for somehow creating a society in which these things are necessary.

The American Dream is alive and well. In fact, it’s so easy to obtain those who don’t are seen as not the problem, but as victims of the ease of society. Something must be wrong with society as a whole if some find it so easy and others can’t “catch a break”. Of course, in order to catch something, you have to go out into the field and put out your glove. You can’t just wait for someone to hand it to you. The American Dream is all about getting out into the field and doing your part. It’s probably why Baseball is our pastime.

bullying, Law of Attraction, Love, Mental Health, parenting, Prayer

Forgive and Forget

January 19, 2022January 19, 2022 Katrina Russell

People talk a lot about forgiveness, and there are definitely two camps on this subject. Well, three if you count the people who keep forgiving over and over and not the forgetting part, but for this we won’t. For this we are talking about the people who are done taking flack and listening to lies.

In one camp there are the people who will never forgive. “Those *fill in expletive* don’t deserve my forgiveness”, people. The ones who every time a name is mentioned, even if it’s not the actual person, just the name in common, this one gets a knot in their stomach. This one has been hurt so badly they will never forget, and never give anyone else a chance to hurt them like that either. They will take that pain to the grave, and to whatever afterlife may come.

This is the one that tells you they are fine, while simultaneously screwing up something in their life. A friendship, a romantic relationship, a family situation, a job… something that reminds this one of that person who did that thing to them once and they are not going to let that happen again.

When that person or that subject does come up, this one still sees red. They can’t help it. It’s still so fresh in their mind and heart. They can’t let it go. They are angry and will continue to be angry. There is no way that this one is going to give that person the satisfaction of being let off the hook for the horrible thing that they did. That person is going to die knowing that this one hates them.

Of course, that person may not care, or even remember this one… but that’s not the point… this one will remember… always.

Then there are the ones that know how to forgive and how to forget. The ones who understand that everyone has faults, and everyone is at a different point in the evolutionary scale. This one knows what horrible thing that person did to them. This one knows that person is not capable of the actions or respect that this one deserves. This one feels almost sorry for the person who did them dirty, because this one understands that true happiness can never be found in hurting someone, and the person who hurt them will have to live with everything they do… but this one does not.

This one has learned holding onto a grudge only hurts the one holding on. This one forgives the person who wronged them… and then lets it go. That’s it. It is now a thing of the past. It no longer takes up room in their conscious mind. This one goes about their life not worrying about what the other person did or is doing now. This one goes about their life not assuming that everyone they meet will be like that person and hurt them.

Then there is a moment in this one’s life when they realize they have actually forgotten. Maybe they see that person at an event, or their name is brought up. This one smiles, asks how they are, and have a pleasant encounter. Maybe at some point someone reminds this one of what the other person has done. This one just laughs, and says, “well, it was a long time ago. We’ve all grown since then.”.

Maybe we’ve all grown, maybe that person is just as rotten and hurtful as they always were, but it doesn’t matter. This one has grown. This one has a good life. That person who hurt this one doesn’t have any power over this one. This one has forgiven and forgotten.

Healthcare, parenting, Politics

Freedom is Hard

January 17, 2022 Katrina Russell

Freedom and rights are hard concepts to understand. Most people are under the impression that each of these represent things that should be given to them. “I have the right to have a house or a new iPhone or whatever medical care I need therefore you must give it to me.”. But those are not rights. Those are desires. You have the right to purchase any of those things and no one should be able to infringe on your rights to work hard and accomplish things, but that is not the same as being given something.

As people we have the right to be left alone and to do as we please. The choices we make then decide the life that we lead. This has become completely turned around by everyone. Most people in our society and in every political party seems to think that freedom means doing whatever one wants without consequence and rights are to have whatever they choose without the needs to work for them.

Growing up my father always said that the job of a parent was to raise children to be independent. Children who can take care of themselves after the parent is gone, and hopefully take care of the parent after they are no longer able to care for themself. That’s freedom. Not having to depend on others. That’s rights, being free to make decisions that enable you to be free, and all of it is hard.

Now, just to be clear. I am not opposed to social programs. I live in Massachusetts, and we even have a socialized healthcare program that was put forth by Mitt Romney about 20 years ago and has been working pretty well ever since. I am quite liberal on many of these subjects, but they are not rights. No one has the right to food that they didn’t grow or buy themselves. No one has the right to someone else’s labor. However, if in a specific community people decide that they want to help out their fellow neighbors in need with programs they choose to pay into that is also freedom, and their right to do so. The right to do what they wish with the benefits of one’s own labor is a right, and a freedom. Someone who feels they are in power over the people telling them they must give up their labor to someone else is extortion.

The flip side of this is cancel culture. The act of looking for anything that someone has ever done that was questionable and then spreading it to everyone possible in order to ruin someone. Those who believe in cancel culture say that it’s all fair because with freedom comes consequences and actions have consequences, which is true. The actions themselves do, but, for instance, the teenage girl who used the “N” word while quoting a rap song to tell another white friend she got driver’s license when she was 16 years old and then was not allowed into the college of her choice years later because someone held onto that information for the perfect strategic moment to inflict as much damage as possible is a classic example of the actions and consequences not matching. The girl didn’t use the word with racist intent, and she was a child when she said it with a very limited understanding of the world and the rules that go with it. This may have been a teaching moment at most, but not a nuclear bomb to her life moment.

Today we are seeing a serious push against freedom everywhere we look. We are seeing people’s speech being censored, we are seeing places of worship being shut down, we are seeing people’s jobs and right to work being eliminated, and we’re seeing all of this under the guise of “leaders” keeping us safe. We are being told that we have no RIGHT to know what our children are being taught in schools, and that we have no RIGHT to speak out against those who are in power regardless of whether or not we are correct in our assertions or not.

We are told that our safety takes priority and that those in charge are the ones to make that decision. That is not how this country was designed. That is not what our forefathers fought for, that’s not what anyone agreed to when they chose to move here from wherever they came. This country was settled by people who were willing to fight and die for the lives they chose to live. It doesn’t matter which settlers we’re talking about. Whether it be the settlers who came over from Asia for thousands of years, the Europeans who came over for hundreds of years, or the many other groups who are still fighting to come over today.

The Asians (now called Native Americans or First Nations or whatever new term of the month it is) and the Europeans came over and dealt with harsh weather, new species of animals, and which ever groups of people had come before them. Most people died. Thousands of tribes of Natives were made extinct before the Europeans even knew this place existed, and hundreds of settlements never made it through a winter once they did, but group after group still come.

Today we see caravans of people walking thousands of miles from South America. We see families risking life and limb in shark infested oceans to just set foot on our shores to gain the freedoms we take for granted. Millions of Africans, Asians, and Arabs have come in the last hundred years knowing that they have to learn the language and the new customs to fit in with our society and they welcome the opportunity, because they know that our society isn’t easy, but if they work hard their children and their children’s children will have a better life here.

Freedom and Rights are not about the to stay safe or the right to never die. Freedom and Rights are about making choices that fit your life and no one stopping you, especially not the government you employ to protect your rights. If you want more privileges, then by all means ask for them. Talk to your communities about sharing the responsibilities for those who can’t or those who won’t, but don’t pretend it’s your right to control someone else or to take the fruits of their labor. That’s just theft, and you have no right to that.

Addiction, bullying, Law of Attraction, Love, Mental Health, Prayer

Nihilism is killing people

January 14, 2022 Katrina Russell

I want to start by saying that I wasn’t raised religious. This is important for me to point out because a lot of people feel that only people who were brainwashed from childhood could possibly be religious, and that’s just not true. Religion is for those who are looking for meaning in life. There are as many religions in this world as there are people because everyone interprets their religion in a personalized way.

Human’s need something to believe in. They need to feel like life is worth something. Not every religion is a good or positive religion, but they all at least give people hope for a future. People need hope. They need something to hold on to. People work all week for the weekends. They struggle all year for their vacation. They Scrimp and save for a house or car or something bigger and better that makes their life feel more complete.

People also need to feel like when they lose someone that they are not gone forever. That a part of that person lives on in some way. I was not raised religious, but after my father passed away, I couldn’t imagine an existence without him. He HAS to be watching over us. My son’s father used to think I was crazy. He’d try to explain all the ways in which it wasn’t possible. I told him none of that mattered. That no one could possibly KNOW what happens after we die so we can believe whatever we want. Whatever makes us feel better.

He couldn’t handle that explanation. He was a nihilist in its truest form. He couldn’t fathom a reason for any of it. He was scared out of his mind about dying. He would go into full-fledged panic attacks over the thought of it. He knew it would happen at some point, but he just couldn’t wrap his mind around not existing. He couldn’t see any other option, but he couldn’t handle the thought of just being gone. He didn’t understand why we bothered to live. Why we bothered to suffer. Why we bothered to work hard or fall in love or have a family if it just meant that we died in the end, and it was over.

This wasn’t anything new in his life. He had these feelings and concerns since he was a teenager. He couldn’t believe in anything that he didn’t have proof of. He felt empty all the time and turned to drugs. He ended up institutionalized multiple times before he turned 18. By the time I met him he had been diagnosed with bipolar, borderline personality, and generalized anxiety. He was in recovery for his addiction, but still heavily medicated for his other disorders.

He was a great guy, and we did fall in love. We did create a family. He loved our son more than he thought possible, but that caused him even more pain. He couldn’t understand what the point of all of it was. He couldn’t see why we should all put our energy into accomplishing things in life just to die. His goal was to actually become a robot. I used to laugh at that. I used to tease him saying, “like a cyberman from Doctor Who? You know those are the bad guys, right?”.

He didn’t see any other way. He couldn’t handle emotions. He couldn’t handle the fear, the unknown, emptiness that he saw in his future. The irony of his disease, his nihilism, his despair for the future is that it made him suicidal. He had tried twice before I met him, and I couldn’t understand when he told me how anyone so afraid of dying could want to die. He told me that it was the constant fear of the unknown. The constant exhaustion he felt over the anxiety of not feeling anything. The drugs didn’t work, the therapy didn’t work, nothing worked because he had nothing to believe in.

Every generation seems to be becoming more and more like this. They seem to not understand what life is about. They don’t want to work for things. They don’t want to get married. They don’t want to have a family. They just want to live a life of nothingness, of physical and momentary pleasures. Life is about the “Now” there was a whole book series about this, but I don’t think that any of them actually read or understood the concept of that book. The new generation has decided that religion, and family, and responsibility are somehow bad and that primal pleasures are the only things worth living for.

Yet every generation becomes more and more depressed. More and more dependent on drugs and alcohol. More and more suicidal. All anyone ever does anymore is complain about how miserable they are. How lonely they are. How broken they are. But when you suggest that maybe that is because they have nothing to believe in or goals to accomplish, or real relationships to depend on they just respond with something about the patriarchy and “ok Boomer”.

My generation was the first generation with a major war or a draft. My generation was the first to have vaccinations for the really harmful diseases. My generation went through life arguing about whether or not Die Hard was a Christmas Movie. We were the first generation that were just expected to go to college, and we did it without much help from computers and no one had cell phones or social media as kids. We were the last generation to be raised to think about the future.

The Millennials came up right behind me and suddenly everything they ever did was out on the internet for the world to see. Suddenly everyone was comparing their lives to everyone else’s, and no one was happy. No one saw value in anything. They just saw envy and greed and became a generation that focused on what they could get for as little work as possible.

I was the tail end of the Gen Xers and the beginning of the online dating scene. It used to be you had to meet someone in person. You had to talk to them. Get to know them. Get them to like you before you saw them naked. It took work and made the end result worth it. Now you just swipe, and you have a line up for the week. No work involved and no feelings of accomplishment either. Relationships are work. Saving is work. Work is work. No one wants to do that anymore. Because no one thinks that anything that happens actually matters.

I know that they’ll say, “oh I have to work 3 jobs just to afford rent”. Sure, and when people point out that you buy a new $1000 phone or a new $1500 game system every year you just scoff that you deserve it. Yes, things are more expensive. Things are always more expensive every year. But if you got married and had a joint income that would give you more collective money… but no one wants to do that.

Everyone wants to take a pill, hook up, and sit in front of a screen and pretend their life away. I saw a video of Keanu Reeves talking about his conversation with a kid who didn’t understand what was wrong with living in the Matrix. Who cares if it’s not real? He thought this was great! He literally missed the whole point of the 4 movies he was in. It’s not great.

I saw a commercial for the new Facebook Meta world VR system. There were two guys who played together all the time. They were great friends in the VR world. They were ignoring their families and annoying those around them. including each other. As it turns out they were neighbors and didn’t even know it. They just yelled at each other to “keep it down” when they heard each other enjoy each other in real life.

Is that the kind of life people really want? Ignoring and annoying their family and neighbors to live online? This world is becoming obsessed with not living. Like my son’s father who couldn’t handle real feelings and fears and wanted to become a Cyberman. And like my son’s father this whole world is killing itself with drugs and apathy.

August 14, 2019 Neil Thompson died of a drug overdose. He had just worked out a custody agreement with me. He had just finished his Associates Degree and was moving on to his BS. He had started a new relationship with a new girl who he lied to about all of his issues. He was found in his bed in his sober house because he couldn’t handle living while feeling. How long is it going to take the rest of the world to kill themselves in the name of nihilism, and not having anything real to believe in?

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

January 13, 2022January 11, 2022 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.

Love, Mental Health, parenting

When did wanting love and family become taboo?

February 5, 2021 Katrina Russell

Hey, remember when being a mom was like a thing women did? Like, when people asked, “what do you do?” and they responded, “I’m a mom” and that was cool. That was enough.. why did that change?

Now, I’m not saying that women shouldn’t work. I think that if you have a passion for something you should go right out and work for everything that you desire. I’m also not saying that if you need the money that working is a bad thing. You have to feed yourself and your family and that is important… but when did it become shameful for a woman to be a mom. Like, a stay at home, take care of your family mom?

From the beginning of time moms have been a thing. In fact without moms there would be no more people. Being a parent and raising new people is the most important thing that there is. Making sure that these new little humans don’t turn out to be serial killers or wastes of space is very important. My father used to say that the most important job in parenting is creating independent people. But that takes a lot of work.

Childcare is a huge industry. Mostly run by women. The service industry is also huge and also mostly employs women. House cleaning companies mostly employ women.. these are all industries that have skyrocketed in the last few decades because women entered the work force.

Now again, I’m not saying that women shouldn’t work, or that all women should be mothers. If a woman decides that motherhood is not for her, by all means.. good on you.. if you decide that you do want to be a mother but you don’t want to give up a career that you love, that’s great too. But how many women out there LOVE their jobs. How many people out there LOVE their jobs. Most people can’t wait till the end of the day or the end of the week. I don’t know why having a job became the goal.. like it’s so prestigious to spend most of your waking hours doing something you hate just so that you can pay someone else to take care of your kids and clean your house.. because guess what? That’s their job.. you pay someone to do the things that you are shamed for doing for free, because it’s not real work. How is this good?

People complain all the time that the cost of living is so expensive. Well, this is because the market follows the money. When most families were one income families the market reflected that. Add a whole knew income and suddenly everything doubles in price. So you’re literally working to buy things that everyone could afford to buy before we all pushed to work jobs that we hate.

Again, I’m not saying that the Women’s Lib movement was bad. I believe women have the right to do and be anything that they want. Which includes being a mother and a wife. We always hear that on our death beds we never regret the deals we didn’t make but the family time that we missed. That we don’t look back fondly at the hours at our desks, but the moments snuggling with out loved ones. Our family and the people that we love are our reason for living… so why should a little girl be shamed for wanting to grow up and get married and have babies? Isn’t that what most of us want? When did wanting love and family become taboo?

Addiction, Giving, Love, Mental Health, parenting

The correct way to grieve

September 12, 2019 Katrina Russell

There is no correct way to grieve and I have done it all. Grief is different for everyone. It’s also different for each person at different stages of their lives. I was reading some fan posts about a show I watch in which one of the fans was not happy with how the main character reacted to the death of her husband compared to when she had thought her father had died. This fan felt that because the characters reaction wasn’t a breakdown into tears her love wasn’t as real.

I can tell you that I have had a handful of significant deaths in my life, and I have reacted to them differently every time. Some of the differences are based on their relationship to me, some of them have been because of my age. Some of the differences are just because the more loss you have; the more you get used to it.

My first major loss was my grandmother. She had dementia for many years and when she died I was very sad, but I also had felt like I’d been losing her for a long time. I was in my 20s and that death was more about facing my own mortality. She was the first member of my family that I really knew that died. It was the first time that death really hit home. I went a little nutty about how my life was not going anywhere and I wasn’t married with babies.. and the whole deal. I ended up running off to Vegas and marrying the guy that I had been dating for about a year. Don’t get me wrong, he was a great guy, but we should not have gotten married and after a couple of years and the grief passing we faced that truth and divorced.

My next major death was my mother. One would think this would have been the worst, but it wasn’t. I hadn’t seen my mom since I was a kid. She was schizophrenic and her being in my life was just too hazardous. She had moved to Georgia when I was about 12 and I had very little contact with her while she was there. A few years later she moved back, off her meds, and causing problems. I decided at that point that a mother should not be hurting her children, and that if she were in her right mind that she would agree with me. I never saw her again.

My father googled her every once in a while just to keep me updated. One day, in my mid 30s, I came home to him telling me that he found her obituary. She had died the year before… and I missed it. That was tough. Growing up without a mother was always hard. She didn’t help me pick out my prom dress. She wasn’t there to give me advice on dating, or tell me not to get married. She had never been a part of my life, but I always knew that she was out there, and that gave me a little peace. Maybe someday she’d get herself on track and look me up… but that day never came, and now it never would… and with that I just closed a chapter.

A few years later, 2015, was the worst year of my life. I woke up one morning to find my father dead in his bed. He had been sick for years, which is why I had moved home, but I wasn’t expecting that. His death crushed me. I found him and tears, screaming, horror. It was the worst experience of my life. It was exactly something that you would expect. My son was only 2 at the time, and I had to put on a brave face around him, but there was a lot from that year that I don’t remember. I was on auto-pilot. I had to clear out my dad’s stuff, take over his business, put in order all of his life.. and I did.. because I had to.. but I don’t know how I did it. And I don’t remember most of it.

In that same year my dad’s longtime girlfriend died.. on my birthday. She was older and had been sick for a while, but that didn’t make it any easier. Losing her was like losing another parent. She was a link to my father. To my childhood.. Hell, she was the one who knew everything about everything. She was my go to in life when I had real questions… now, who was going to be there for me?

A little over a month later and right before Christmas my dog ran out of my front door and was hit by a car right in front of me. And not just hit.. hit, knocked to the other side of the street.. ran over.. then ran over again and dragged away. Some people don’t understand the impact of losing a dog, but for me this was like the proverbial straw… I had to choose. It was either going to destroy me, or I was going to use it to strengthen me. It was 2 days before Christmas and I had a 2 year old sitting in the house waiting for me. I held my breath, cleared up my tears, and did everything that I could to give him the best Christmas that he could ever have.

That was almost 4 years ago, and for a long time the worst of it was over. I was getting on with my life. I could only do what I could do and I was learning everything that I could about helping other people. To me, helping others made me feel better.

A few weeks ago a new phone call came in. This time it was my son’s father. He had been an addict. He had been clean for almost 2 years… he was my best friend.. on his sober days… and August 14, 2019… he was dead. My face went white with that call, but I did not shed a tear in that moment. I looked at my, now 6 year old, who was playing with a friend and I thought, “I need to be as strong as I can… for him”.

I have broken down a few times. My son has seen me cry, and knows how sad I am about Da being dead.. but I am holding it together. Not because I didn’t love my son’s father, but because I still love my son.. and I still love me, and I know that the best way for me to work through my grief is to help others. I have been writing about my experience with death, with addiction.. with loss. I have been helping out with my son’s school, and extra-curriculars. I have been attending to my son’s father’s final estate.. I am going to attend a wedding this weekend.

I am doing all of this because I love my grandmother, and my mom, and my dad, and my Mary, and my dog, and my son’s father… and my son, and my life… and the best way to make all of life worth the pain that comes with it is to keep loving and keep living. I live for all of those that I love that can’t anymore. I am teaching my son to do the same so that one day he will live for me when I’m gone… in the way way future. Because I plan to live and love and help others as much as I can for as long as I can.

Addiction, Healthcare, Love, Mental Health, parenting

My relationship with an addict

September 9, 2019 Katrina Russell

Relationships are complicated. That’s nothing new, Facebook has a prompt for that. Add to it any outside influences and they become dizzying. When my son’s father was alive he was my best friend. He was also my Kryptonite and my biggest antagonist, depending on the day.

He was absolutely the sweetest man that you could ever meet. When we were together we could practically read each other’s mind. We were completely simpatico. When other people were around us they saw us as a great couple and couldn’t understand why we had such issues. He was my rock. The person that I knew that I could depend on forever.

When my father was sick he was there for me on more than one occasion to clean up the mess while I helped my dad. When my car broke down he handed me the keys to his and told me he’d take the bus till mine was fixed. If anything needed moving or repairs I knew that I could call him and he wouldn’t think twice about doing what was best for me and our son. Two weeks before he died he asked me to pull into the local car wash and proceeded to vacuum, scrub, and shine my truck up. He was a Godsend… until he wasn’t.

My son’s father was an addict. When he was clean he was the best person that I knew. When he relapsed he was a danger to himself and others. He assaulted my father. He assaulted his mother. He kicked the dog. He punched holes in the wall. He never laid a hand on my son or me, but that was mostly because I made sure that we stayed out of the way until he was sober enough and then I would tell him that he had to leave.

When I talk about my son’s father people can’t understand that he was both people. They can’t understand how that sweet man that they met could do such horrific things and they can’t understand why I would ever let him back. the problem was that he was both people. He was like Jekyll and Hyde. His illness.. and yes, it was an illness.. caused him to lose himself. Once he relapsed he became the drug. Sometimes this was convenient. When he overtook his suboxine he became a fun, playful, cleaning machine. My house was spotless. He’d run around and play chase games with our son.. things weren’t actually that bad. At times I would overlook it. I knew that he wasn’t capable of making good choices in that state and never left our son alone with him, but it was like a buzzed parent at a family cookout.. it was fine once in a while.. until it wasn’t.

Unfortunately with addicts once they got the taste the use changed from once in a while to get a buzz.. to constantly booming and zooming. I would always have the conversation with him after the first relapse, after a while I learned his mindset. If he admitted to the lapse there was a good chance he’d hop back on the wagon and we could continue as planned. If he denied it, then I knew we were headed for trouble. Regrettably it took way too long for me to figure this out. We had years of back and forth. Years of him promising to stay sober. Years of him being amazing only to bottom out eventually.

The more conversations that we had the more I realized that he had no real intention of changing his ways. I have been studying, learning about, and working in the field of behavior therapy for years now. I started to help understand myself, then to help others. I understand that we are who we believe ourselves to be. We are our thoughts. We are who we surround ourselves with. If we believe that we are screw ups.. we will be screw ups. My son’s father was a drug user. He believed himself to be a drug user. He surrounded himself with other drug users. His thoughts, humor, and beliefs revolved around using drugs. He often told me that he didn’t believe in the AA reasoning that once an addict you could never use again. He believed that he just had to figure out a way to control his use.

Two years ago I finally said enough was enough. He was out of my house for the third time, and back in jail for assaulting his mom when I told him that he had to go to re rehab. Not a 2 week or 30 day dry out, but a real program that really worked on the heart of his issues. He refused. His mother agreed that as long as he had dried out and promised to stay sober that was all that mattered. I knew that one of these days things were going to go to far and I didn’t want my son or me anywhere near it.

I talked to a friend of mine who handled family law and asked him to start the process of setting up monitored visitations. I told him that as much as I loved him and wanted our son to know the good parts of him I couldn’t risk him harming us as he had other. At first he agreed.. then he didn’t. It was a long battle with many court sessions. I did my best to work with him and he did his best to keep his drug screening information out of my hands.

During that time I had to concentrate on every bad thing he ever did. It was the only way that I could keep from caving. I knew that he was living in a sober house. I knew that he was doing well at school and at work. I knew that he was acting like the man that I loved, but I also knew that it was temporary. It was always temporary.

Two weeks after we signed the final court papers my son’s father overdosed. People don’t know how to talk to me about his death. They don’t know if I’m relieved or if I’m sad, and to be honest I’m both. It sounds horrible, but I know that he was never going to be clean. After he died his father cleaned out his car and found a bottle of supplements people use to get high that don’t show up in a drug screen. No one knows how long he was using them, but the bottle was almost empty so it wasn’t something new.

I never wanted my son’s father to die. I loved him with everything that I am, and my son worshiped him. Losing him has cut a piece of our heart out that will never be repaired. But he overdosed twice in two days. The first time he crashed his car putting not only his life in danger but everyone on the street with him as well. The next night he overdosed in his room in the sober house all by himself. Had I let him back in. Had I given in to our love for him and his love for us our son could have been in that car.. or could have been the one that found him overdosed.. dead…

I was the one who found my father when he died. He was 65, and died from complications from diabetes, and I was 39.. but that’s a visual I will never get out of my head. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.. especially a small child.

I loved my son’s father and I will miss him forever. A huge part of my life is over now. But I am so grateful that my son is safe from the damage that he unleashed with every bad decision that he made. Relationships are complicated, but when you love an addict, if you’re not careful.. they could be deadly.