She liked to think of herself as a woman of uncertainty, but that wasn’t really true. Sure, she didn’t know what to think about the Bible any more. She wasn’t sure how involved God really was in people’s lives and how much was a matter of perspective, but she was sure of more than she wanted to admit. She was sure that people weren’t primarily numerical and therefore didn’t belong in boxes. That probably applied to God, too. She was also certain she needed to think her own thoughts, make her own decisions and take responsibility for learning how to actually live her life. She didn’t want to survive. She wanted to be fully invested, aware, empowered, and present for all the days before her death.
The difficulty lay in the fact that she didn’t know how to do this. For a myriad of reasons she’d grown up without acquiring many of the usual inter and intrapersonal skills that usually come with age. She was determined to find a path, though, whether she was late in starting it or not. She decided to brainstorm, and the list of her ideas is as follows:
- Take more initiative. Being docile and submissive isn’t always the true path to peace. Speak up when needed, even if it causes conflict.
- When speaking up causes conflict, decide not to embrace the idea that it’s all your fault. Communication is good, even if it’s hard. Just don’t go too far and start flinging blame or cheap shots at people. That’s never okay.
- Notice the good stuff. Maybe even write it down. It’s easy to lose sight of goodness in life when it’s mixed in with the inevitable pain, so work at recognizing kindness.
- Remind yourself that you’re strong. You don’t need permission to live.
- Be gracious with yourself. Listen to the words you speak over yourself. If you wouldn’t say them to anyone else, don’t say them to yourself, either. If you fail in this, be gracious then, too. Forgive yourself and move forward. Consider coming up with some positive phrases with which to counter the negative ones. This idea makes you want to barf. Find out what that’s about.
- Accept and recognize comfort. Soak it up when it comes.
- Accept and recognize when you are loved.
- Ask for help when you need it, you ninny. Wait. Refer to #5. You lovely woman. Oh, barf. I mean, Oh! Whiskey!
- Allow yourself space to heal without condemning yourself for it. If you’d been hit by a train you’d know it was reasonable to take time. You’ve been hit by a train. It just didn’t have wheels on it.
- When you condemn yourself, try affirming yourself instead. Say what you’d say to one of your students.
- Regarding Mom and Dad: They’re probably not going to change. Don’t wait for it. Work on yourself. Give up on the idea that you’ll ever be parented, even now, in a way that is deeply edifying. Love them where they are, how they are, without expectation. Find your security somewhere else. (This might be where knowing God loves you would be really helpful. It’s unclear why you haven’t been able to get that after all this time, and that makes you angry. Ask Tom about that.)
- When you’re up for phone conversations put boundaries on them. Start with five minutes. Go to 15 but not more than 20.
- When they cut you off while you’re trying to tell them about your life, ask them why they did that. Guage their receptiveness. If that conversation goes nowhere, stop trying to tell them about your life.
- When they’re upset about your boundaries, keep them anyway and don’t apologize for having them. You’re bound to empathize. Go for a walk afterward, or go up on the roof. Yell into a pillow. Call a trustworthy friend and talk about it. Warn the friends ahead of time that you may need to be reminded that boundaries are healthy for everyone. Look at happy animal pictures on Pinterest.
- When Mom and Dad don’t understand and you can’t explain, tell them you can’t explain and you’re sorry they’re in pain, but avoid shifting blame onto yourself to try to make them feel better. Leave the loose ends when needed. Write a poem about it afterward, or refer to #14.
- After having any basically meaningless conversations with Mom and Dad, having stayed within your boundaries, hang up, eat a piece of chocolate and congratulate yourself for a job well done. Contribute $5 toward your next great pair of shoes.
- Cry when it comes.
- Breathe.
- Invest in things that help bring you to life. Take art classes or poetry classes. Be brave and apply for that MFA program. Be responsible to your day job but don’t allow it to rob you of fulfillment.
- If the MFA program doesn’t accept you, don’t stop writing.
- Keith: This requires a separate list. Work on that as it comes. Remember that you love each other and don’t let society dictate your “normal.”
That’s as far as she got, but it was a start. She was already used to laying on an ice pack for long stretches of time to help her back. Certainly she could implement this. With help. And grace for flubs. In fact, when she screwed up and did something wrong she determined to stand up and walk across the street to a coffee shop and get some tea if it was during business hours. If it was late, she’d write “I love me” in Word on her iPad, and make each of the letters a different color.
Not Quiet Any More 
Great list. Regarding the postscript, you may want to remember the wise remark of Elder Sophrony of Essex: “Stand at the brink of despair, and when you can’t stand it anymore, draw back a little, and have a cup of tea.”
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