Disordered and Magical Thinking

 Also linked to my Facebook on September 30, 2026

I feel like I need to start this post with a photo (and video) from Kaelynn Partlow, author of Life on the Bridge, because almost inevitably (as with most things), I'm going to be misunderstood.

Don't hear what I didn't say

I was out to dinner with my younger sisters (& niece) for one of their birthdays recently. So many topics came up. I love being able to get together with my sisters and not worry about being misunderstood - or having to overexplain myself. Even if we occasionally don't receive the exact message the other person hoped to communicate, we at least have the desire to understand . . . and feel comfortable clarifying (or asking additional questions) until we do.

One of these sisters received a record (LP, vinyl) of The Rescuers soundtrack for her birthday years ago when she was little, which included this song: Someone's waiting for you

And although you don't hear the first stanza in the recording, here are the full lyrics:

To which I decidedly have to say,

faith doesn't work just like magic.

This is something most all people over the age of seven understand.

Faith is generally accepted as a principle of action (and power).

Magic relies more on the sleight of hand . . . 

or suspended disbelief.

And yet, if part of your life's Venn diagram exists within an American "Christian"  religious community, there can be a pervasive ideology that:

 "if you align your will with God's will,
if you just believe
and do not doubt
 and keep that positive attitude . . . 
happiness will follow" 

(see transcript of Juana Summers interview with Kristin Kobes du Mez,

about her research for Live Laugh Love. 

https://www.npr.org/transcripts/nx-s1-5750611

And while I am a proponent of a positive mental attitude . . . most of the time;
if you are unwell,
or feel the need to deceive others into believing you are 'fine'
(in order to keep up appearances);
this is decidedly unhealthy.
It could also damage your mental health if carried on too long,
(or carried to the extreme).

I'm talking about persuading yourself that 'religion' has a way to prevent adverse occurrences
in "an inherently complex and often unpredictable world."
(see entry on Magical Thinking in the Scales of Psychology or in Wikipedia)

Or, if you feel pressured to just accept dichotomy.
For example: when encouragement exists within the fold to seek professional mental health services as necessary; while at the same time, the virtues of patience, humility, and turning the other cheek are extolled.
And instead of being encouraged to speak up, ask for clarification, or seek additional answers, you just have to hold these co-existing . . . and in some instances, oppositional ideas.
Let's face it, under some circumstances, virtues taken too far become precursors to mental health crises (plural).

I believe that Heavenly Father loves all his children, and doesn't arbitrarily override the autonomy or 'right to choose' by one set of people, just because another set of 'righteous' people prayed for a specific outcome.

Also, when you relinquish logic and rational understanding about the limits of human ability,
then expect Heavenly Father to step in (and save you) in times of extreme difficulty (of your own making or not), this makes no sense. There is certainly a place for common sense about our capabilities (and frailty).

Regular attenders in congregations of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints have heard this quote numerous times:

“God does notice us, and he watches over us.
But it is usually through another person that he meets our needs."
Spencer W. Kimball, New Era, March 1981.

I think it is okay to acknowledge that if Heavenly Father is relying on us to take care of each other, it is possible that He may need to send out 1,000 prompts before even one person responds.
And truthfully . . . 
while our 'need' may be high on our own list of priorities,
or even Heavenly Father's;
it might not even end up in the rankings
of someone who doesn't share your . . . perspective.

After all, it is difficult to get outside yourself and really see what is happening in other's lives, if you aren't observant or don't pay attention to the simple things.

And we should also acknowledge,
occasionally, our combined 'religious' efforts need to be spent cleaning up
(or at least acknowledging ?) the mess created
by our well intended but poorly executed religious efforts,
as a result of the overtly (or covertly) communicated non-essential insistencies.

I had someone ask me recently what I thought Jesus would think of the church in our day.
I responded by saying,
"About the same as what He thought of it in His own."

Then again, who are we to assume we know what He thinks.

That really would be magical thinking . . . or would that be faith . . . 
now even I'm confused.

Disordered Thinking and Disordered Sleep

Also linked to my Facebook on September 20, 2026

I guess it goes without saying that anyone who has experienced disrupted sleep for an extended period of time is going to feel a little off.

And perhaps we all have people in our lives who have unreasonable expectations of us, given our available resources.

At what point do we recognize it is an unreasonable expectation of society that people perform at a given level, with no dip in that performance, when they've been living on 4-6 hours of sleep for years?

I started drawing in my circle of activity at some point, because twice in the same year I found myself coming back to consciousness on the floor . . . after I'd apparently passed out. I guess my body had enough of burning the candle at both ends (and in the middle) as the normal expected functioning; and it decided to tell me as much.

I'm wondering now, since some of my self-awareness has returned (and the lack of it has been pointed out by others), how much of what I'm experiencing with my current mental state is another feature of my body saying, 'I give up. If you can't give me the minimum 7-8 hours of consistent uninterrupted sleep, then I can't support your current activity level (or brain function).

At some point, I came across a video of someone talking about the latest research on certain 'first-generation' allergy medications often used for sleep. There appears to be an association with its use and dementia. And as always, we have to ask, is this a chicken and the egg type of association, where one inevitably follows the other (and which came first); or are we talking about correlation and not causation. I've wondered, after watching the videos, whether if people who need the medication to help with sleep deprivation are experiencing more dementia due to multiple years of disordered sleep (rather than as a result of taking the meds).

And in the end, which is worse - really?
Living a half-life for an extended period because you can't function on so little sleep, or you experience dementia later.
I'm not sure.

Not being able to think logically when people are expecting you to work, parent, volunteer, and live life presents a problem. And cutting out more and more parts of your life only works for so long.

Eventually you have to address the root of the problem.
If you can find it.

Also, lack of sleep doesn't help with migraines. Just for the record.
And migraines don't help with logical linear thinking.

Disordered Thinking and Reciprocal Relationships (updated)

Also linked to my Facebook on September 13, 2026

My actual health is improving. Yeah! The sick to my stomach feeling, excessive tiredness, and unexplained crying has lessened a bit; so that is a positive (likely the result of the boosted iron intake). Hopefully in time, I'll feel like my mind is fully restored as well. It seems like although my writing is becoming more positive (optimistic), my internal thoughts still remain . . . muddled.

As with most of my writing, I feel like if this subject made more sense in my head, I'd be able to express it in words. As it is, even when I spend time pondering on what led to my thinking this way, I'm grasping at straws to make it seem completely logical.

I don't have reciprocal relationships: ones where the street goes both ways. I have 'friendships' where people care about me (and for me), but very few (if any) where I return anything of value to the relationship. I struggle with that because I'd rather be thought of as an equal, instead of lesser-than, (or a nuisance / burden). And even when friendships/acquaintances start out innocuous enough, they nearly always seem to end up going badly in the end; because I can't keep up with societal expectations. I already have enough relationships where I am the burden, or where people feel sorry for me because of my circumstances (or my condition). At some point, I'd like to have value as something other than being 'the charity case'.

A gal I admire spoke in church a couple of years ago, and mentioned a discussion she had with her husband. She asked him if he thought our relationship with Heavenly Father was transactional. I think she is an HR Rep where she works; but that may have nothing to do with what prompted the question. I guess in my mind, her line of work might include directing training meetings where they talk about the qualities of a healthy transactional relationship. She and her husband talked about what she meant, and they both concluded Heavenly Father's relationship with us (and ours with Him) wasn't transactional. In other words, his love and care for us isn't based on our actions or interactions with Him (or anyone else). It certainly isn't based on a quid pro quo.

His love was a settled subject for me, somewhere in the Spring of my freshman year of college. Because of (what I perceived to be) an unequal friendship I had at the time. I was struggling through how I was going to make my way forward in life, never feeling worthy of this type of kindness (or attention). It hadn't occurred to me that was the nature of actual Christlike love (between humans), or what it meant to be cared about by another person. I'm fairly certain (up to that point), I mostly understood relationships to be transactional. And then, in answer to prayer, I felt Heavenly Father (and Christ's) profound sense of overwhelmingly benevolent love and acceptance, not based on anything I'd ever done. It totally changed the way I understood Heavenly Father and Christ.

I began to wonder if all the people who spent so much time teaching me about Heavenly Father (and Christ) actually knew him (them). That one experience was so different from the perception I'd always had. I would liken it to the story of the blind men and the elephant. Each person was teaching from their own perception, but very little ever sounded (or felt) like the experience I had. It sort of shook my foundation and rattled a bunch of stuff loose that probably shouldn't have been there in the first place (the culture of religion). It also started me on a journey of being less confident about so many things I'd accepted (as truth) before that.

Up to that point, I guess I had settled (in my mind) there was a group of valiant people who did many things 'right'. In my experience, these people were placed in positions of leadership (at church) and trust (in the community). And because they did good with their privilege and opportunities, they were set as 'moral' examples for the rest of us. In essence they were to model behavior, appearance, relationship and financially wise decision making. These adults bore little resemblance to me (or my family), so I figured we must be in a 'different' class than these 'leaders'. They were a little removed or more polished than the rest of us, and I ended up lumping most of their character (& personal) attributes into this 'valiant' profile (for better or worse).

To this 'valiant' profile, I also added many of the things I was taught about Christ himself. Somewhere I got it in my head that because of His extreme self control (never thinking anything untoward about people) and always putting other's needs and wants above His own, he was able to understand the feelings of others; including their pain, suffering and weakness. Because of this, he was not only able make up for the wrongs enacted by others; but he was able to heal the hurt that came as a result of those wrongs. Essentially, He became the person who met you where you were, and made up the difference. He covered the distance between where you should have been, and where you actually were; as well as 'covering' your mistakes with His goodness. It wasn't really until the college experience that I came to an understanding the difference was love, not self control.

However, this also left me in a quandary. If there was nothing I'd ever done, nothing I was currently doing, and nothing I would ever do in the future that could change His love for me, that meant our relationship was fine. But I'd never have that with anyone else here on earth. There would be no one to accept me for myself, without my having to be something more / better - and polished.

And if we are supposed to use Christ as our example, then how exactly does that work? Do we ever have reciprocal relationships, or only ones where one party is the merciful and benevolent giver and the other party is the grateful (and sometimes grudging or ungrateful) recipient? How do we become comfortable or relax in each other's presence, if we are constantly questioning whether we are acting in the role of benefactor or recipient? Or is it all just pretense, and is that why those leaders felt so removed and polished? Had those benevolent givers ever lived life on the other side of the coin (ie. being the one in need)? I struggled to reconcile the example and my relationship with other people (subconsciously . . . if not in my full awareness).

And so, thinking the confusion must have an answer, I started looking. I looked at the Savior's life and what he said. His life seemed to have a lot of very deep personal sacrifice, so I figured that was what I was missing in my equation. Some people, particularly those of us who currently weren't (or never could) measure up to the valiant leader status, were simply called to make some deeper type of sacrifice. A sacrifice which called for absolutely no selfishness. This was what had gotten me into trouble in the past - thinking of myself before others - so it must be the answer. Heavenly Father required some people to give beyond what you currently have. You needed to become a better person, in order to give to others. Somewhere, putting aside self was the answer.

And I still want to believe that is true - in the best sense. If you give of yourself - selflessly, like the Savior, there is something sanctifying about what you give, to (or for) the other person. But in our modern day, turning the other cheek, giving someone your 'cloak', putting off self, and answering 'the call' are seen as prudent . . . only after you've done your due diligence to care for yourself and your own family, and not before. Society looks on you as somewhat foolish if you sacrifice on behalf of others while relying on the Lord to care for your own family. I think Heavenly Father solves problems with love or that was my take-away from my college prayer. Sometimes it requires a little extra sacrifice, but most often I think it comes organically. You just feel or sense the needs of another person, because you care, and you want to show loving kindness. 

And on occasion, that organic sense of care seems completely normal. But if I'm being honest, because of my brain situation (or my religious under-the-microscope 'training'), I'm nearly always overthinking things. It is rare that I feel comfortable in the presence of other people; not because I'm necessarily ashamed about my situation, it just feels so distant, formulaic, contrived, and slightly dishonest.

I'm just tired of being the burden (or the nuisance) in nearly every relationship I have. And yet, it is rare that I'm the person in the 'giving' seat. So, people are having to constantly 'invest' in me on the one-way relationship street. I just so wish it wasn't this constant exercise in 'paying it forward'. And every once in a while, it would be nice to have a reciprocal relationship (particularly if I didn't have to discover until later, they were only being 'nice' out of 'pity' or a form of charity). I acknowledge, reciprocal relationships take a lot more emotional capital than I have to invest right now; but someday . . . I'd like to not be the one begging crumbs from other people's emotional tables.

We had a record (LP, vinyl) growing up, of songs by Janeen Brady that my great aunt had given our family as a present. One of the songs was called, Maybe you Laughed

(updated with the corrected lyrics, thanks to my fabulous Dad who found them for me):

Many thanks to Lorina Bowman for the YouTube video
https://youtu.be/AcekqEOQk7E?si=7C45CkXBFvYSeKCb

Maybe you know someone who is not as smart as you,

And maybe you laughed - Maybe you laughed.

Maybe you know someone who can't do the things you do,

And maybe you laughed - maybe you laughed. 

Well, remember, that someone came from heaven too, And they are a child of God, the same as you!

Next time you meet someone who's less fortunate than you,

Maybe you won't laugh, and maybe they won't cry;

Maybe if you're kind, they'll maybe wonder why.

They'll maybe feel like laughing too!

Some people can't see at all, and some people can't walk.

Some people can't hear, and some can't talk.

Some people are different looking,

Some people are (act?) strange.

Some people hurt all the time,

because of things they can't change . . . 

Maybe you know someone who is always left behind,

And maybe you laughed - Maybe you laughed.

Maybe you've seen tears that fall when others are unkind,

And maybe you laughed - Maybe you laughed.

Well, remember, that someone is loved by somebody too,

And they are a child of God, the same as you!

Next time you meet someone who is struggling to get through,

Maybe you won't laugh, and maybe they won't cry;

Maybe if you're kind, they'll maybe wonder why.

They'll maybe feel like laughing too!

As much as I want to believe this charity-type of kindness is good and wonderful and efficacious as intended - because I have felt this, and not recognized it for what it is. . . I've also occasionally been on the receiving end when it was just charity-like. Sort of charity-adjacent, if that makes any sense. And because now that I know what both feel like, on the receiving end, I'm incredibly hesitant to engage in the 'fake' (or counterfeit) kind. I know how devastating it can feel when you realize it was duty-given, and how much that doesn't feel like Heavenly Father's love.

And once you start replacing one with the other, perhaps you just assume that detached, removed, polished, performative giving is 'all there is'. And it proceeds to do the same thing to your heart (and true emotions). It makes them feel detached, removed, polished and performative. And you no longer trust (or perhaps even feel) the emotions that make you alive anymore.

To the point you find yourself dying a little (on the inside) from going through all the motions (with no true emotion).
And Heavenly Father has to come rescue you (and your mind, and your heart) once again,
because He can't bear to see the existence of His love on earth despaired of, 

. . . simply because of a cheap imitation (however well intended). 

Again, I'm only all too aware how incoherent this post is.
My brain was long ago infected by the Non Essential Insistencies (malware sub-routine), and I'm apparently still struggling to recognize when it is running vs. my own disordered thinking.
Or if they just feed each other; and as long as they both run, unchecked, my poor mind suffers.

Disordered Thinking and Work

 Link posted to my Facebook on September 8, 2026

To date, besides babysitting and nannying, I've had 16 different paid jobs in my life. I've tried to play to my strengths - like attention to detail in business process, and nurturing young children. I've also intentionally stayed away from my weaker areas - like anything heavy on verbal communication (or physical coordination) - such as customer service (or waitressing).

I once applied for a job that included Teams or Zoom meetings, primarily to become more comfortable with the online application and interview process, rather than with any real intent of taking the job itself (unless it seemed spectacular). I made it through to a second interview, which revealed a few additional job responsibilities I knew I'd ultimately struggle with; namely, booking flights and hotels. 

I don't even do that for myself (since I never go anywhere) and I couldn't fathom figuring that all out on my own - on a professional level. It probably sounds absurd, coming from a person of my age; but I don't even really like driving to and around the airport here in Phoenix. It is way too easy to get lost finding the proper parking and terminal when there isn't construction - which they perpetually seem to have going on. I'm sure it would have been possible to figure out how to book a bargain flight; but without a personal reason to 'buy in' (aka my own vacation) I'm sure I'd struggle being enthusiastic about it. 

I worked in the public and charter elementary school systems for about 14 years. I even thought it would be a good idea to get a dual Elementary & Special Education degree and started down that path (as a post-bac). The longer I worked for the public school, while also watching my (now-ex)husband teach high school and college, the more I saw the dichotomy between what Administration officially said, and what happened in practice (in the classroom). As an aide, I recognized my limitations and lack of ultimate authority, which worked well for me. But when I was asked to teach a variety of grade levels in the computer lab (still as an aide), or supervise a 1st grade class for half the day when the district didn't have enough emergency subs to go around, I saw the flaws in the system. Also, the couple of times I had a 'behavior' child 'entrusted' to my care, I felt incredibly poorly prepared or trained (odd, given my own kiddos history). I still love kids (and education), but my tolerance for educational bureaucracy ultimately dampened my enthusiasm for that as a professional career too.

If I'm going to work, and take time away from my own offspring, to do a job where I'm not going to be paid terribly well, and perhaps be treated poorly too; I better have some enthusiasm for the task itself (or at the very least have some belief in the industry's presence).

I'm certain I'd have trouble with financial markets; because as much as I believe wealth can be a good thing, I don't want to have to perseverate about it. I've never had large amounts of money, personally. So, sums above $10K sort of fall into that monopoly money category I visualized during ECON 101, along with the marginal gains. My eyes glaze over and I only hear the teacher from Charlie Brown's class.

The pattern with all of this, I've discovered is, I don't have a lot of drive when it comes to pursuing a professional occupation. I think, for the gals I went to college and high school with, it was either the highly intelligent or the ones who enjoyed competition (competitive environments) who pursued actual careers. I love the concept of women choosing (or having the opportunity to choose) a vocation from something they love or are good at. 

During my formative years, it seemed to be the push for girls was to do well in their studies, while also becoming good at domestic occupations (everything it takes to keep a loving home, even on a frugal budget, when necessary). I tried my best to reconcile how a girl obtained enough education and training, and kept her foot in the industry's door just to pick it back up (if necessary), while at the same time being out of the full time workforce engaged in raising children. Church leaders worded it (at the time), as 'just in case'; which I'm fairly certain has changed at this point.

I do believe many women are completely capable of running a functioning home and holding down outside employment or pursuing a fulfilling (and even lucrative) career. I don't know that I fill those shoes. I'll admit to a mighty struggle with the division of labor (in my marriage), while we were both in school (and working).

My executive functioning would have to be much higher (than it currently is), or I'd have to love operating at a frenetic vibration level for performance. And perhaps if my nervous system hadn't already reached its lifetime capacity of eggshell walking and other-shoe-dropping along with backup preparation for those activities, maybe I could enjoy being so incredibly involved or busy. Mentally, it just all sounds exhausting if you have to plan for all the contingencies that could (and in my case, inevitably would) occur in all those given occupations. I'd never keep up with it all and would beat myself up for all the stuff falling through the cracks. Oh wait, I already do that to some extent with my current work-life balance.

Perhaps the biggest challenge with me and work is the lack of perception. I can attend to spoken and written directions for the most part. I'm not so good with picking up sarcasm or veiled instruction. Some employers want you to read their mind, or be their version of completely independent (ie. a self-starter and problem solver right up until you step on another person's toes or take on more than they've actually non-verbally delegated to you). I'm sort of averse to ongoing tension in the workplace. I'd rather address it and get it solved (even if it means finding someone more suitable to the bosses preference). I'm sure there are worse things than going to a job where you know you aren't wanted. Fortunately, that hasn't been my experience. I've either had great bosses, or they've been so incredibly patient (and so teaching oriented) that I didn't pick up on any underlying displeasure.

. . . Other than . . . my first 'real' job in high school.
The bosses sister (in law?) left behind a shoe when they came to visit from out of town. He (the boss) asked me to make sure it was packed up and ready to go out the door when UPS came by. I'm pretty sure I said something like, "isn't that your wife's job?"
And he let me know that my job was to do whatever he told me to do.

Thus began my education on the meaning of 'other duties as assigned', which seems to appear in nearly all employment contracts or itemized lists of 'required skills' these days. 😂

Maybe it isn't bad when you have an exceptional (or exceptionally ethical) boss,
and you didn't grow up in the 1970s and 80s.
The disordered thinking (literal word interpretation) part of my brain still rebels on the inclusion of that phrase. 

Disordered Thinking and my immersive Autism experience

Link posted to my Facebook on September 7, 2026

Most of the time, we hear about people on the Autism Spectrum (or those having ADHD) describing their sensory experience as overload, or too much stimuli. We see it portrayed as young people rocking or hand flapping (aka stimming) in response to their nervous systems being overwhelmed by the 'too much' that is any given 'new' environment. That has never been my experience.

There is a gal at church who unabashedly likes to hug me; sometimes saying she does it on purpose because she knows it 'bothers me' (while simultaneously laughing, presumably because she knows it isn't true). And maybe I come off that way, but her hugs are always welcome. I think sometimes my affect / appearance doesn't reflect what is happening on the inside.

So, in an effort to communicate what is perhaps unrelatable to everyone else, let me attempt to use words to describe it.

During my first year of college, I would go to the library in the evenings to study. How much time I spent actively studying what was in the textbooks and how much was hijacked by the study of human nature could be debated. The men's basketball team coaches (maybe the football team?) prescribed an hour (or two?) of mandatory study time in the library. The head librarian (also my ENG 101 Prof) had a team roster or paper where members were supposed to record their names and check-in time. Poor Mr. Jordahl had the task of trying to keep the library somewhat quiet during the library's default social hour. [Note: If you don't see a hint of Peter Sellers in Mr. Jordahl, you aren't getting the full experience of English class (or the library). The man was simply . . . unique. And his accent just added to the complete package. Mr. Jordahl made English class tolerable, which is a huge accomplishment on his part, considering the depths to which I despise all things English / writing / grammar / bearing your soul / emotionally vomiting in words on paper for a grade; and technical writing or term papers are even worse.]

My experience at the library wasn't so much as a 'fly on the wall' as it was taking everything in. To this day, I can picture the library entrance (which is very different now, since they've renovated nearly every building on campus since I was there). Upon entering, there were flat seats with cushions on either side inside the doors, before you passed through the metal detector style barriers. The librarian's Ask Here desk was to the left, with the newspaper and map section beyond him, and the main reading tables straight ahead. I seem to recall half shelves - perhaps the reference section, just before the tables, made of blond wood, along with the chairs, and you could see the three half-glass walled reading rooms at the back. There were so many details, I couldn't possibly describe it all - but that is how my mind took it in - the total experience. And yes, it took some time to discover the additional aspects of the library and where things were located (ie. fiction vs. non-fiction book shelves, the AV room with computers, etc.).

I don't know how to adequately put in words how that experience sort of mirrors nearly every new location (and human) I encounter. And driving anywhere for the first time . . . far too many variables, on a good day.

If you've ever watched the movie Hoosiers, and remember the scene where these rural town kids experience this sense of awe as they enter the enter the stadium style gymnasium for the State Championship game, I sort of liken it to that.

Hoosiers (10/12) Movie CLIP - Measuring the Massive Gym (1986)

Every new experience has some of that charm, in a way. In effect, it sort of overwhelms my senses, in a good way (most of the time).

I was talking to my older sister last night (who is in town for our niece's wedding), and in my rambling way we covered about 100 topics. Sometimes, when you meet a new person, the experience can be so captivating that you can either: look the person in the eye, or you can pay attention to what they are saying; but you can't do both. I've heard it described as 'people with autism have a hard time maintaining eye contact,' which I don't know is necessarily the case. She confirmed it isn't just people on the Autism Spectrum that find themselves staring into another person's eyes, only to find they've lost track of the discussion. And if you want to pay attention (to their words) you simply cannot look at their face (without getting drawn in, and effectively losing yourself).

Mrs. Potter, on the other hand, the elementary school ELP teacher (experienced by the three oldest in my family), was not so much charm, as instilled terror. Upon walking in the door, there was a good chance you'd be confronted with a wave of coffee (which is fine if you like that smell / odor). Personally, sensing the very real need to recoil (to avoid throwing up or passing out) isn't the most pleasant start to a day of interrogation. I'm not sure you can have two diametrically opposed experiences, based upon the way someone accepts you (or doesn't). My very being (or presence) seemed to offend Mrs. Potter. There was no way to measure up to her mysterious expectations, spoken and unspoken. It was as if she wanted you to intuit her desires and directions before you even got to know her. I simply couldn't fathom what new scrutiny she had in store as she peered over her half-glasses at me, with her tall wiry grey beehive hairdo, which made her already 6 foot frame appear even larger. There simply was no measuring up, in her eyes (for me).

And I don't know if my soul is just longing for that acceptance of what my life is, rather than knowing the way I live in this world will eventually be too much (or too little) in another person's eyes. Or if what I'm really just seeking is to be able to fully immerse myself in the experience of being alive. If the entire process wouldn't result in losing myself (or my mind) in the overwhelm (or sadness) that occasionally occurs, my imagination doesn't want to abandon the entire opportunity. Because, I have somehow persuaded myself, if I could just get past the first moments, and even if I'm never able to fully measure up to another human's (eventual) expectations, I could appreciate what is (in the moment, at any point along the way). And then I tell myself not to be so selfish, because life is really pretty good.

The financial advisor that rents space in our office occasionally sings (or hums), in his baritone voice, in the hallway, and on his way out the door. If you've never sat in the alto section while a wall of sound from an adult male choir comes at your back and then washes over you in waves of bass, baritone and tenor; and you've never experienced that complete sensation of pure male harmony on a cellular level, that just elicits peace, relaxed nerves, and smiling . . . you have not lived what is the absolute pleasure of my immersive autism experience.

Not that all my lived experiences are that way, just . . . enough (new ones), to make me think: if life was full of this sense of wonder, maybe it really is worth it, just as it is. And I should stop seeking for something more, just to approximate being 'whole' or what is 'normal' to everyone else - which I will never know.

Disordered Thinking and Talk Therapy

Link posted to my Facebook on September 3, 2026

I went to see a therapist years ago, feeling incredibly disappointed in myself, because I'd handled something poorly with my son. It (the motivation to go) mostly stemmed from never wanting that to ever happen again and hoping there was some way to address what was going on (with me).

And for as difficult as it is to label exactly how I'm feeling in this moment, I'd say I'm approaching that - being disappointed that I didn't handle everything better. And yes, I acknowledge that maybe it might have required understanding (ahead of time) about what was happening. It doesn't change the fact that I'd like to not be in this place in the future. I'd like to handle my problems in a more productive way. Maybe that is just another in the ongoing list of challenges associated with disordered thinking and mental health.

The first time I went for therapy/medication (for myself), was in response to something said by a member of the quasi-IEP team at my son's charter school. In effect suggesting (in a round about way) that perhaps my son's diagnosis (at the time) was reflective of something in me. So, I found a medical doc who specialized in Psychiatry and OCD (or maybe I was given her name by referral) and made an appointment. As we talked about why I was there, the therapist asked if anyone in my family had been diagnosed with OCD or other psychological issues. We talked about my brother, and my family's association with depression. And then she asked what specific behaviors were concerning me. I told her I wasn't exactly sure, but named off a few things I figured could be considered to be 'perseveration' (another label they'd used on my son) - ie. I absent-mindedly counting how long the water ran when I filled the water pitcher. 

The psychiatrist was patient, but after a few minutes of back and forth, it was pretty obvious she thought this was sort of a waste of her time. She described in detail the kind of problematic behaviors people with OCD actually have, for example: not being able to leave the house without checking and rechecking the lock 10 times, touching the top of a door frame 23 times before walking through, repeated handwashing - to the point your skin is dry, cracked and bleeding - and still needing to wash again. She assured me I didn't have OCD and didn't need medication for my 'symptoms'. We had the one visit and she didn't see a need to follow up, so I didn't.

The next time I went (for therapy) was after the interaction with my son. I saw a counselor / social worker that time. I remember only going for a few visits - seems like I got a job which would have interrupted the timing - so we agreed I'd stop. The main take aways I remember from those sessions:

(1) The therapist told me I was adaptable. She thought I did a good job making accommodation for all the ways life (and expectations) had changed over the years. I didn't know that was something to be remarkable, and maybe that was just her way of trying to find something positive to say.

(2) She talked about praying in her previous marriage. She was remarried at that point. She said her impression was the Lord had let her know it was up to her if she wanted to get divorced. She had worked hard and there wasn't any shame in deciding to exit an abusive situation. There wasn't any abuse going on in my marriage, so I figured she was either telling me a story to help me feel comfortable with her (aka safe?) and that there was no judgement about anything I was feeling. I don't remember coming away from the sessions thinking she'd given me advice or permission to consider divorce; but it almost seemed like she wasn't taking it off the table - which sort of seemed odd, when I'd come in about my own disappointing behavior (related to my son).

(3) Each time I went in, there was a legal size paper (in triplicate) full of check-box answers that I was supposed to fill out. I ranked how 'satisfied' I was feeling about various areas of my life. Exhaustive in its scope really. I skipped a few I felt weren't really relevant to my visits - and she specifically asked about them and why I'd failed to answer. When I told her they weren't relevant, she assured me they were - in my overall heath and happiness. I replied that the nature of the questions seemed to be something I considered a standard by-product of a good relationship (with your spouse). And ever after that I felt compelled to answer (somewhat in protest) these particularly invasive questions, when I just wanted help relating to my teenage kid (with a disability). And my goal was to learn to exercise more self control when I was tired or weary of dealing with it all.

And maybe that is what I'm still struggling with . . . (15+ years on)
the idea I should be able handle stuff better when life is falling apart.
Because the nature of (my) life itself isn't going to change.
The support system isn't going to miraculously provide some additional type of assistance.
Maybe I thought there would be some previously unknown agency that could help - that second attempt at therapy; I know better now.

I've told myself for years that I'm just drawing the circle tighter, to accommodate what is, by cutting out what doesn't work (or makes life harder). There isn't much left to cut out anymore. And I always felt like that was just the impetus to look deeper for the simple blessings we did/do have - and find contentment there.

And until something rattles it, I guess the adaptable part of me just does its thing.
Sometimes there is white-knuckling it through the tough stuff.
And sometimes there is just letting go of the only thing keeping you attached to the apparent dysfunction, which appears to me (at this point) to be trying to white-knuckle functioning through a hard situation.
So I'm forcing myself to adapt, once again, because my family (the three of us) must come first - which seems radically different (in my heart), given what I've actually been keeping in the tiny circle.

Disordered Thinking and Enmeshment Theory

Link posted to my Facebook on September 2, 2026 

There is a quote I heard at church, 'the philosophies of men, mingled with scripture'. I guess the meaning may be fairly self-explanatory. There is 'science' or the process by which we take our observations, posit a theory, conduct an experiment, and analyze the data to draw a conclusion. In other words we have the scientific method (the philosophies of men), and we have 'scripture'.

Some people would argue that scripture is just a written version of oral history, which is also open to error and revision. For the purposes of this post, I'm going to say, I think the meaning of 'mingled with scripture' actually means intertwined with foundational truth. You don't personally have to find your truth in scripture. But let's just go with this premise: scripture (for this discussion) is referencing the concept of universal truth.

Years ago when my (now ex-)husband was working on his Master's degree in Spanish at the University of AZ, a doctoral student from our congregation spoke in church. The speaker wasn't in a medical or social worker program, but did reference Enmeshment; to provide an example of being too involved in something that didn't help a relationship. The speaker referenced getting lost in reading a novel for 5-6 hours, instead of striking a balance, with a little less time spent with the book, and more time on something higher the list of priorities - like the grad research or their spouse.

There is more (and less) to Enmeshment theory. 

An article by Saul McLeod, PhD (in Psychology) writes in Psychology Today (updated Feb 2025),

"Enmeshment is a psychological term describing an extreme form of emotional closeness where personal boundaries become blurred or non-existent.

"In an enmeshed relationship, individuals are overly involved in each other’s lives to the point that they lose a clear sense of their own identity and autonomy."

Naturally, Wikipedia also has an article (albeit very short) about Enmeshment theory

But just because we come up with a theory about something doesn't make it true.

I do believe that we can be so over-involved in caring for other people that we fail to care for our own basic needs - ie. nutrition, exercise, hygiene, etc. And sometimes, that becomes disabling for the whole family.

There are also syndromes or conditions with other names that describe extreme familial disfunction (like Munchausen syndrome by proxy, now referred to as FDIA or Factitious disorder imposed on another).

But again, just because we see something, and label it, doesn't always make it true.

If all parents of offspring with special needs (developmental, medically fragile, or other) or even normal needs, prioritized themselves above their children, what would become of the next generation?

Nearly always, we have family members that require us to give more during certain seasons. Infants would be an obvious example. Some families have members whose needs are developmentally appropriate, but unique to their chronologically aged peers. And so, for that season (or earth-bound lifetime) those families will have lives that look very different than the general population.

I also have a theory.

Continually asking families that have members with special needs, to step up to the plate and serve the priorities of the common population, can occasionally be societally tone deaf.

My positing that theory doesn't make it true, even if it is based on observation. I'm currently living enmeshed in the experiment phase. I'm uncertain if any of my interim conclusions are truly factual because of the dysfunctional nature of my thought process.

Perhaps we are all enmeshed a little too much in our own first world problems priorities.

We could all potentially be dysfunctional, depending on our point of view.

They will be much more able to give you something.

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen, ch 2

I'm going to conclude: by even making these statements about a hesitancy to serve (in any season of my life), I understand some people I know would consider this as being lazy, less humble, having a lack of faith, or self-damnation . . . aka dividing oneself from 'god'. I accept the label, as with many other man-made theories, while knowing it still makes me unable to run faster than I have strength . . . which apparently is currently the case.

The philosophies of men mingled with scripture (aka my disordered thinking) . . . is making my head ache (unless it's something else).

I must be feeling at least a little better, because I'm back to being philosophical (I didn't say rational) . . . now, we'll see if I can avoid crying today as well.

Did I mention we're going to the PsyNP today?
I am not the client / patient.
Though perhaps I should be.

Disordered Thinking and depression

Failed to link this to my Facebook on September 1, 2026 oops

I guess I should have addressed this at the outset - the intersection of disordered thinking and the symptoms of depression. For the record, when I began posting about mental illness in July 2026, I didn't realize I was on the downward slope. So much of what I deal with day to day appears symptomatic; it is hard to tell the difference.

It is a constant struggle for me to know where my feelings about general parenting, and mothering my sons in particular, stray into learned helplessness . . . both for them and for me. It has been a gargantuan task, doing this alone - which isn't the reality - but it is how I've felt. The process of getting a medical diagnosis and SpEd services is sometimes by default (and sometimes by intention), long (and adversarial). You cannot pay a person enough to actually care about your child/student. We've had some excellent teachers and physicians; but in the end, they can only give so much. And unfortunately, that doesn't bridge the gap between what exists and what is needed.

So, how much of what I feel on this front - the resignation - is depressive, and how much is just realistic . . . given the time and brain capacity I have available to dedicate to the cause? It has been ongoing for so many many years. And then there is peri-menopause, which supposedly encompasses many of these same symptoms.

I sincerely believe in having hope and faith.
I'm struggling with another aspect of it.

As much as I believe in miracles,
I'm trying to figure out if the Lord actually requires every single mom be willing to sacrifice like the widow did for Elijah, just to have her children taken care of.
Keep in mind, I'm not comparing my situation - we aren't starving and I have an education and a job - two or three very different circumstances than the widow of Zarephath.
It just seems like we might have moved on from that level of desperation (in the 2,800 intervening years) . . .
until I find myself still weeping at relatively minor things, for no apparent reason;
other than, life is a challenge.
And evidently, my body was struggling to keep up with everything under the circumstances.

I'm curious if they would have treated my low iron before or after handing me mood stabilizers, had I recognized (and sought medical help for) my symptoms of depression.

One thing is certain, this isn't how I typically deal with my ongoing earthly battles.

Disordered Thinking and the extremes

Also linked to my Facebook on August 31, 2026

I don't know if it is possible to make mental illness seem relatable (or comprehensible) to people who haven't experienced it. As long as my sentences make sense, it is conceivable the assumption would be that my thoughts do as well. And of course, I'm absolutely certain at least some people will disbelieve or discount any symptoms I may have experienced as normal in the course of human life. Which up until about 10 days ago, although I knew I wasn't feeling in tip-top shape, I don't know that I would have recognized how bad it had gotten. So many of these same associated symptoms come and go in my 'normal' life. 

This dialogue is poignant (to me)
"I always wished I'd seen the signs."
"You're seeing them."

I need to be absolutely clear (for the sake of my family): I am not doing 'that'. Please believe me, I would call you.

We live in a day of such extremes though. I'm not sure we even recognize when we've reached the point of absurdity anymore. Just as an example - fitness trainers are dedicating a lot more hours exercising than the rest of the population - upwards of 8 hours a day. So of course their bodies look different than the rest of us. And they are the ones giving us fitness advice. But that same thing goes for nearly every industry. The people giving advice practice their specialty full time. And some of the advice is simply impractical for the rest of us. Some things aren't even healthy anymore, if taken to the extreme.

If your life is already imbalanced in one area (or more), you may not be able to do any more heavy lifting. I truly am happy that there are other people who can keep the gears greased and running in all the functional areas of their lives - personal, work, marriage, children, social, volunteer, religious, etc.

For some of us, it can take a lot less to tip us over the edge - because that is where we perpetually live - in that margin, on the edge. One additional personal health episode, one more emergency room visit with a child, one more request for service from an outside party, and we may be drawing from an empty bucket. Sometimes just doing the minimum is already too much, when you are overextended.

But if being overextended is already the norm, we may not realize we are pushing other people past their breaking point with the next expectation or invitation to 'do better'. Some requests, however well intended, are setting others up for failure . . . and the feeling bad about yourself that inevitably accompanies it.

On any given day, the average person can probably deal with multiple requests, a disappointment or two, and a handful of difficult assignments. It isn't always obvious to the outside observer though, when your one request made, disappointment delivered, or additional difficult assignment becomes one too many.

We talk about warning signs, but sometimes we are just so busy with our own lives, we fail to see what is going on with those around us. I'm not ready to diagnose the entire human population with being too busy (and by extension, insensitive). I don't think that is the case.

I think the brain prioritizes efficiently and creates a hierarchy of importance for all our given tasks. In the case of disordered thinking though, this process doesn't function the same. Current research suggests there may be an association with synaptic pruning (the brain's process of cleaning house) and neurodevelopmental disorders such as schizophrenia, and autism spectrum disorders.

Just as a thought experiment:
If every piece of good moral advice you ever received in your life operated its own sub-routine in your brain (like a line of code in a computer program), you might have one or two that ended up interfering with each other. And if your brain was unable to move forward when it came to these two or three pieces of 'cognitive dissonance', you just might struggle to free up enough working memory to function 'normally'. And when I say normally, I mean appearing to function like every other person whose brain simply discards unused input after a period of time. But because someone told you this piece of code was important, for some reason you've been unable to discard it. And it cripples the entire system.

In my experience interacting with people who have mental health challenges, they rarely deal with just this one thing. Quite often, in addition to the disordered thinking, they experience one or two physical health related issues as well. 

Here's my best real life analogy:
Years ago, I worked for a property management company. One of the company's several complexes had a central boiler to provide hot water for the complex. It also had a swimming pool (not heated). As the resident manager, I lived on the property, collected rent, and interacted with the renters. On the Thursday before a Monday-holiday weekend, the boiler went out. A part had to be ordered from out of state and would not arrive until Tuesday the next week. So, the the entire complex of 35 regular units and 8 daily-weekly-monthly efficiency units were without hot water for about five days.

I was sympathetic to the residents, as I had no hot water either. But I at least had a bathtub, and could heat water on the stove and mix it with cold water in the tub for my son. We had some units with only showers and hotplates. Needless to say, some people were unhappy.

When I asked the maintenance man what I should tell the residents (ie, could I tell them they would have pro-rated rent for those 5 days . . . ). He said to tell them exactly what one of the two owners told him, "My hot water heater works just fine. I don't know what their problem is." And, "they can use the swimming pool."

I would imagine he was joking . . . at least I would hope so.
But, the tone deaf nature of the statement, whether it was actually intended for the residents (or not) was disappointing. In the words of the maintenance man, "The owner calls himself a slum-lord."

So, as you interact with other humans, don't be tone deaf (aka - my brain works just fine. I don't know what is wrong with yours!); particularly if you believe they may be experiencing disordered thinking (or other mental health issues). They might just be more concerned about a higher priority (like a shower) than your 'first world' problem. As much as they want to help you, it is possible they truly can't . . . without offending you in the process (see B.O., lack of shower, reference above).

Disordered thinking and psychosis (part 2)

Originally posted to my Facebook on August 28, 2026

I'm going to be honest. I'm a little embarrassed (not more, I'm sure, than my entire family for me, and of me).

When I started all this 'public' posting at the beginning of July, I said I wanted to make the conversation around mental illness easier and maybe not so isolating. And even though this isn't something, in this moment, I feel 'accountable' for (as in fault-finding . . . not that I'm blaming anyone else either), I'm struggling to find words to describe what I am feeling.

A sense of detached shame - I guess.

I know people will have trouble relating to any of the experiences I documented. And now I have to wonder . . . what was real, and what is just perpetually in my head (as I was feeling it in the moment).

Psychosis can take more than one form (according to AI - see below). I've obviously been experiencing disorganized thinking and delusions (or it is obvious, to me . . . now). I'm not having hallucinations, and never have (unless you count answers to prayer - which I'm sure some people would). No voices. But yes, dreams (long ago) . . . so, judge for yourself.

I've been going to work, 'parenting', attending church, shopping in public, cleaning my home, etc. So on the disabling scale . . . I'd say it has mostly affected me, the people who've been reading along, and a few I distanced from my immediate circle (just to cover the unknown blast radius). And then, also, everyone I should have been actively helping while I've been out of sorts for the past year (yes, the training of organized religion always finds a way to be there in the background). [If I make this all 'public' - will that make a difference? 'Atonement for' - making things right and changing my ways?]

I'm just going to note, for the record - none of this AI stuff discusses iron deficiency. So let that settle in.

Years ago, I asked for an SSRI for social anxiety, and it only made me exhausted - it didn't help with anything else. I was too 'drugged' on the lowest dose to function.

I'm not saying medication isn't ever warranted.

But unless a very patient person pointed out that I wasn't making sense - when would this have become obvious to me?

Once abnormal becomes your 'normal' . . . you are just different, not 'ill'. And somehow, society has taught me, I'm also (in the eyes of many) a lesser person because of it - and my apparent inability to care for myself. Life on earth, with other humans (and perceived judgement), is a hard taskmaster.

DuckDuckGo's AI Sources:

National Health Service (NHS)

https://www.nhs.uk/mental.../conditions/psychosis/overview/

Cleveland Clinic

https://my.clevelandclinic.org/.../symptoms/23012-psychosis

Wikipedia

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Psychosis

Disordered thinking and actual psychosis

Originally posted to my Facebook page on August 27, 2026

There were days (I'd like to believe) when physicians had time to read your chart and your labs, and know you well enough to be mindful of your history (maybe because you lived in a small town where everyone knew each other for decades). These are not those days. And I don't live in a small town.

A year ago (July 30, 2025) my lab work came back. My nurse practitioner (who is great and I truly appreciate) noted my climbing FSH level and some other hormone getting lower (indicating the beginning of my carefree happy days would soon be at hand - lol).

My online chart tagged something called MCHC, indicating it was low. But the NP didn't comment on it and the difference in the decimal points between normal and me weren't so far apart. But, I started digging online - just to see what is was, what it meant, etc.

And I started taking an over the counter iron supplement . . . a year ago.

Something hasn't been right for a while now. I've felt it. It was like something I remembered from years ago. And at first it didn't bother me too much, because if you recognize something for what it is, you can often deal with it. Until you can't.

Had a simply gone to AI (and not waited until today), maybe I would have found this sooner. But sometimes, you don't know what question to ask, until you find yourself out on a limb (figuratively).

Q: can low mchc cause psychosis?

A: Low MCHC is often associated with iron deficiency anemia, which has been linked to mental health issues, including psychosis. Addressing iron deficiency may help improve symptoms related to mental health conditions.

(from DuckDuckGo Search Assist, michiganmedicine.org, and Healthgrades)

On Saturday, I went with my younger son to the health food store. He was looking for . . . I don't really know . . . a list of things. And I saw a liquid iron supplement. I thought maybe I should take that instead of the other stuff I had at home - just until the bottle was empty. An experiment, perhaps, to see if it was any different than the gummies I'd been taking the past year, or the tablets I recently purchased. After consulting the dosing label, and seeing the dose at age 50 was 3x the dose for 51, I decided on the higher dose. It couldn't hurt, right?

Did I mention I've been taking an iron supplement for over a year now?

In the last half-day, I can tell something is marginally better. Five days on this liquid miracle.

And yet again, I'm brought to wonder, once again . . .

how many times in my life do I need to get close to losing my mind,

and end up praying that semi-nonsense prayer

because I'm watching my rope fraying

and I'm in tears.

And next time (hopefully there won't be one), but if there is . . . will I be able to recognize it sooner? Like before the full on crazy happens and I begin pulling up stakes and cutting ties and self-isolating (because even if crazy isn't contagious, it does make others uncomfortable). Hell, it makes me uncomfortable (with myself and others).

The human body is amazing.

It is curious how the descent into psychosis is so gradual - without something to wake you to what is happening, you could simply tiptoe into oblivion. And not even realize it.

Scary, if you think about it.

Disordered Thinking and First-World problems

Originally posted to my Facebook on August 25, 2026

I'll be honest, this social media thing is so far outside my comfort zone, it pushes the envelope of everything about me. It would be much safer to set my privacy settings to 'only family' or 'friends only'; or better yet (and possibly better for everyone I embarrass by association), just publish it to my blog, which no one reads.

This is one of the so-few places I can push myself (socially, albeit virtually). It seems like I ought to at least try . . . as some form of functional therapy (it's one step past reading a book or listening to a pod-cast).

I know they make medication for people to treat social anxiety (people in my household have taken it - along with an alphabet soup of other meds . . . w/ +&- side effects). And I might go that route if I really couldn't function in my life day to day. I purposely keep my life uneventful, as apparently my nervous system has already exceeded its lifetime quota for eggshell-walking and other-shoe-dropping. And if you've ever been to a psychiatrist or therapists office, you will know it is a process, sometimes lengthy (read, time consuming) and expensive to find the effective targeted combination of treatment - without causing drooling (or some other unfortunate event).

Besides, my problems are actually only crippling to me (and maybe my sons, because I'm not a voracious advocate); and perhaps by extension, my larger family unit(s) - ie. nuclear parent/sibling family, (all my ex-)in laws, and my church family. Because I've learned not to push myself too much, so I remain, in some ways, a 'lesser' person. For instance, I only have a bachelor's, not a master's; I work nearly-full time, but not quite; I don't organize family get togethers (even though I'm the oldest of my parent's kids living in town); I know all my family's birthdays (but only send cards to my nuclear family), etc.

But, if you look at it in the grand scheme of things, I really only experience First-World problems. I'm surrounded by people who provide so much assistance (social, emotional, etc.). It would be incredibly selfish (and socially tone-deaf) to consider myself as 'needy'. Even if there are milestones I don't accomplish (in this life), I am far too privileged, given the history of the world, to think of myself otherwise.

I realize some of my dysfunctional 'symptoms' appear to mimic people who've lived in war-torn countries, even though I haven't. And I often communicate (in real time) like I have an intellectual disability, which I've never been diagnosed with. And I'm avoidant as h*** when panic sets in, because I'm afraid of completely detaching from reality; which happens to people with complex trauma (which I can't claim to have). So, in reality, I have it a lot better than many humans on earth ever will. And as my sweet neighbors used to say, "it isn't a contest" (for who has it worse).

My dad says it has only been in relatively recent years that we started using the term anxiety (in place of fear). And people have always experienced some form of fear (justified or unjustified - given Christ's admonition to not fear). I like to think of anxiety as a term we use for the more irrational type of fear that disordered thinking creates. Because people in the first world (for the most part) don't fear tigers/lions, 'God', or volcanoes - we fear each other. And that may be the most scary of all.

My older sister advised I shouldn't be afraid to share this part of myself. Allowing people to 'know' me through my words is, in some ways, like sharing a gift. And if I could just persuade my disordered thinking to look at it that way, I might be more comfortable with the whole endeavor. As it is, I'm often just placing myself on the mercy of any reader, to hopefully understand what my words will inevitably miscommunicate . . . in an effort to normalize talking about mental illness and disordered thinking. And hopefully, making it even marginally accessible, to understand what is is to walk in our shoes. So that someday, it won't feel quite so isolating.

Disordered Thinking and Organized Religion (part two)

Originally posted to my Facebook on August 24, 2026

This is sort of a repost of something from from a screenshot I posted in February 2013.

This poem text comes from a speech given at BYU (I assume, because I included this link - which no longer works: http://byutv.org/watch/babd9835-7719-4b3a-bec0-6972c04efb6a )

I think the leaders of organized religion accept the expressed principle as true; not because it is healing or restorative, but because they can't give you what you actually need (sometimes).

Maranatha

The path for some if never lighted,

Their love poured out all unrequited

And wrongs they suffer never righted

Till Shiloh comes.

Some promises remain unspoken

To faithful hearts that lay all broken.

Instead of coins, they get a token

Till Shiloh comes.

Some old wounds are never healed

While answers sought, but not revealed,

Leave God's purposes all concealed

Till Shiloh comes.

And some noble souls seem quite forsaken

Their dreams and hopes like plunder taken,

Their looted hearts left empty, aching.

Till Shiloh comes.

From such pains, O God, keep me secure.

But if not, through Hell let me stay sure

And in the dark, let me endure

Till Shiloh comes.

(Maranatha means May our Lord Come)

Shiloh is a term in the Hebrew Old Testament
for the glorious Messiah at His coming -
 Literally: Shiloh, "He Who's Right It Is"

There are some questions I don't ask

and some I've never asked.

And typically, I'm pretty ok with that.

And yet, sometimes I feel the need to just change what I'm doing; because the hard thing becomes too hard to look at (head on).

The leaders of the church I attend have occasionally, though very rarely, discussed Compensatory Blessings.

Since 2008, they've been quoting Wirthlin:

"all that is unfair about life can be made right through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.”

(Wirthlin, J. B., Come What May, and Love It).

My heart says this is true.

I also believe 'made right' may not look like what we anticipate.