Life is Like

LIFE IS LIKE…DEM THAR CLOSED DOORS

This bloggage (as I like to call my postings) is mainly about Joe and I so, if your sick of reading about us, you probably wanna stop now. -Katy

The following 'bloggage' is the sole responsibility of my wife. I had no input, accept a comma or two. And those were unsolicited. What can I say? For some reason she loves me. And I her. -Joe

There is old song, sung by Charlie Rich, “Behind Closed Doors”.  A song about love, ok, maybe just sex, definitely sex, definitely.  But is a song of true life long lasting love?

You may be wondering where the hell I’m going to go with this but it’s a follow up on Joe’s mental health blog.

Unfortunately life is very different behind the closed doors at the house on Herman Hill.

In 2008 I was diagnosed with Bi-Polar II.  Believe me the last thing I wanted to add, to my already too long mental illnesses, was another one.

In my case, my Bi-Polar II has more lows than ‘highs’.  

Some people experience very high highs and at times I wish I did.  At least the house would be clean! My lows are added to my major depression which doesn’t make a great combination, believe me.

A lot of people may find it hard to believe I am depressed.  I put on a good front, until I get behind our closed door.

I don’t know what I ever did to deserve Joe (but I’m not complaining), a lesser man would have packed his bags a long time ago.  Perhaps the cost of filing for divorce costs too much but whatever the case, I know that what we have is special.  And Joe is a very special person (I don’t mean short-bus special either).

When all my meds are working as they should be life is great in the Schutte house.  Unfortunately I’m (actually we) are going through a time when the meds are not working to their fullest.  Not by a long shot.

Even before my lay-off (January 1^st) my depression wasn’t completely under control.  But since then it has gotten much worse, much worse.  Said lay-off is scheduled for 6 months, but with things the way they are these days who knows if my job will be available then.

That’s not what I’m worried about. I know that the Lord will take care of us and will bring something better.  I love my job in Alberta and would love to go back July 1^st.  But as I said, who knows if it will be available.

As it stands now

I’ve isolated myself from all family and friends.  My only scheduled outing is on Saturday to visit and clean at my Mom’s.  Joe does his best trying to get me into the great outdoors, even if it’s just for a ride.  So far this year he hasn’t had a good track record.

I’ve always been great at hiding how I really feel when in public.  In fact the first time I a spent a week long ‘vacation’ in the luxurious Marquette General Stress and Depression Unit more than just a few people thought I was actually a nurse (they obviously wear normal clothes)!  To say that I was a total mess in my head would be the understatement of the decade. 

But behind the closed door of my ‘suite’ (I’m sure you get the sarcasm by now) my depression had me in a very tight choke-hold.  Thankfully I received great care, especially from my Doctor who fixed me up with the right combination of medications to put me back on the right track.

If you see me in public (which, as I said earlier doesn’t happen much now) I still have a smile on my face and look like I don’t have a care in the world.

But behind those closed doors Joe sees how I’m really feeling and believe me it ain’t pretty!

Isolating myself is just one, in the long list, of severe depression symptoms. 

Joe gets the brunt of it. I wish he didn’t but it’s not like I can control it.  I could blame it on the medication not working, or it not being the proper combination. Either way, life at the moment is what it is, and it doesn’t really matter what I blame it on.

Joe is, and has always been, steadfast by my side 150% actually. No matter if I’m at my lowest or feeling great.  I am truly blessed.  And I’m not sucking up to him because I want something, either (but I should get a few extra brownie points).

When I say my prayers, the very first thing I do is thank the good Lord for bringing (and keeping) Joe in my life.  He is the biggest blessing I have. Even if I won the lotto.  Even if I won the biggest payout ever.  Ah, maybe that’s what he’s waiting for, after all he would get 50% of it. I like to think that isn’t the case we’ll have to wait and see, guess.

Told ya so!

See, I told you this was going to be more about us than you probably wanna read!

I guess in short (some 944 words later) the bottom line is: I know that he will always be the branch I’m holding onto.  Remember the cat hanging on just by it’s paws. You know, the ‘Hang In There’ poster.  He’s always been my branch when I need him to be.  Even if I’m just hanging on by a claw or two.  Between him, and Jesus carrying me when I can’t walk on my own, I’m not only blessed beyond words but an extremely lucky woman.  I hope you are too. (Feel free to change woman to man when reading this, if that is more appropriate).

Katy Manning Schutte

Blah, blah, blah

WE'RE BACK!

Okay, Katy's back today with a new "Life is Like" column. It's the kind of message that makes one look back upon the hurts in life and wonder, "If it's healing, why do I feel this way?" It's very thought provoking.

Myself, well, that's another story. And I am working on it, and many others. I have spent too much time being introspective and not enough looking forward. It's a work in progress...my life, and my writing. Oh, and don't forget the recipes! Mmmmmm,,,

  

LIFE IS LIKE A SCAB

Everyone has had some kind of scab at least once in their life.

Perhaps it was falling off their bike, getting scratched by their loving cat, you get the picture.

Maybe you put a bandage over it and possibly some antibacterial ointment to help it heal.  Or took your chances and let it heal by itself.

Sometimes scabs happen with an ingrown hair or splinter that is so small that you didn’t even realize it was there.  It festers and you just don’t understand why. 

In those, and other cases, it doesn’t go away.  Sometimes you do have to take the scab off to find out what is causing it.   What really lies beneath causing the ugliness? 

What is it in your life that you need to rip off the scab to get to the bottom so you can heal?  It’s different from person to person, although I’m sure that many have more scabs in common with others than they would have ever guessed.

Mine are many.  Here are just a few:  mental illness, drinking, addictions, selfishness, resentment, unforgiveness…I guess that was more than just a few.  Did you see any of those in yourself?  Please don’t tell me I’m the only one in the world holding onto at least one of those!

As I am writing this many of those still have the scab on them.  Still waiting to be uncovered so the root of the problem can be dealt with.  Waiting for me to rip it off, easier said than done.  Maybe I’m not ready to deal with what lies underneath.  Or maybe I just don’t want to.

God has spoken to me by a feeling I have deep inside, He tells me to trust in Him.  Release my fears, anger and whatever else is holding me back from totally trusting in Him.  Release my “control” and let Him be in the driver’s seat (and not be the backseat driver).  

My husband would be more than happy to tell you that even if I’m sitting beside him as he drives, I’m still a backseat driver.

I probably should have added control issues to the above list, but you have already figured that out by now.

I should take my own advice and take some time to really really look deep down and think and pray about why I don’t rip that scab off.  But then there is life.  We get so caught up in day to day that some things get put on the back burner of life.  Is this the case for you?

Here again, it’s easier said than done taking the time to do it, but they don’t have to be done all at one time.  Nor do they have to be done in a certain amount of time.  Maybe you have given up, you’ve tried before and there isn’t only a scab but also scars underneath.

Think of it as a process.  Work on one scar at a time.  Take your time, there are no time limits.  Listen to what God has put in your heart.  That still strong ‘voice’.  He’ll help you through it.

Once the scab is gone take the time to put that “antibiotic” and “bandage” on it.  You’ll be raw, mentally and perhaps physically as well.  Take the time to let it heal properly before trying to go onto the next one. 

Listen to your heart. Don’t forget, He’ll be there to hold your hand, and carry you when you can’t walk.

Katy Manning Schutte

Life is Like

Life is Like...Responsibility (Bites)

Last year, I gave Joe a column suggestion. I know this will be hard for all of his readers to believe (especially those that know him personally), but he took the concept and went off in a completely different direction. After reading the first word scribbled on my note “responsibility” he took a left at Albuquerque. Don’t get me wrong, it was definitely funny, and in NO WAY am I dissing his work or think that the following is going to be anywhere near as funny as what you usually read here. But he is in Houghton and I have the laptop and as Paul Harvey would say, "here is the rest of the story".

According to Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary, the word:  young (adjective) is, in part, described as being in the first or an early stage of life, growth, or development.

Now, take a moment, think back to those young carefree days we had as children. Grant it, some were blessed with more than others. Nonetheless, remember those hot summer days?

Going to the beach and making sand castles. Maybe your family didn’t go to the beach much. And your “beach” consisted of a garden hose, and, if you were lucky, a lawn sprinkler. Your only care in the world was that school was going to be starting, and your life as you knew it, was coming to an end. That is unless you actually liked going to school. Na, me either.

Those were the days.

Now jump to your early teen years. Remember that time in your life? Hormones and all? All you wanted to do was be older. After all, you were not an immature young child. You were on the cusp of becoming an immature young adult!

For you, getting older meant being able to date, drive, getting out of your parents house and so on.

The word “old”
Now for a brief description of the word: old (adjective); according to the same dictionary, to mean advanced in years, or age.

Now some of us can remember back. We remember hitting those favorite milestones in our lives, like turning 30 then 40. But that’s where I stop.

Many reading this will laugh, I hope, when they read that and think of me as almost being that carefree child I mentioned earlier. And if that is you, thank you!! Oops, looks like I’m going to be taking that same on-ramp to Albuquerque.

Some readers will remember the milestones further down the road, 60, 70, and maybe 80 or more.  Possibly remembering the times they put diapers on their babies, instead of their “babies” now helping them with their Depends. 

It reminds me of a comedian I once heard “justifying” his smoking by saying that the years that he would lose, would be the “crap in his pants years”.

When we are young, we just don’t understand that we should be enjoying those years. The ones  where we are responsible for nothing. We are just in a big hurry to get older.

The bottom line
As we age, we want to be younger; have energy again. We strive to be able to enjoy the things we used to, without having to take a nap in between.

Then there is the whole responsibility aspect! Remember again, a summer when you were too young to work. What a life! The toughest thing you probably had to do was a few chores.

With being older, come the harsh realities of responsibility. Taking care of your family, house, finances.  Not to mention your job.

And the list goes on and on...

The Mrs. Yooper Blah-Blah-Blah Theory on Aging
When you’re young, you fall, and bounce back up. 
When you’re early middle age, you fall, and look to see if anyone saw you.
When you’re smack dab in the midst of middle age, you take any and all precautionary steps necessary to insure that you do not fall.
When you’re later into middle age, you fall, and pray you don’t hear anything break.

While growing up, I frequently heard a saying from a very wise woman.
               
She would say, “I don’t mind growing old. It is a privilege denied to many.”

That very wise, and old woman, is my mom, Mary Faith Manning.

Remember that when you make that old person grunt sound as you get out of your chair.  Or, when you see a child without a care in the world.

But especially, when you wake up in the morning. Or from a nap, for that matter.

Katy Manning Schutte

Life Is Like

LIFE IS LIKE…SEPTEMBER 11^TH

“Where Were You (When The World Stopped Turning)”.  Country star Alan Jackson put so eloquently into words the most horrific event that, God willing, we will ever experience in our lifetime.

Before I continue on this subject, I feel it is necessary for a little background information about myself before I continue.

For those of you that may not know me.  I was diagnosed with Major Depression shortly after marrying Joe 20 years ago, as much as I’d love to say he is to blame, looking back it had been something that I had been dealing with since my mid teens.

Since my initial diagnosis (like that wasn’t enough) I’ve had several more mental health diagnoses; anxiety & stress issues and most recently, Bipolar II.

Upon the initial diagnosis 20 years ago at the Mayo Clinic, I was told the stress was too much and that I should quit my job or it would get worse.  In denial, I ignored my Doctor’s advice. 

In 2000 I was on literally more than a half a dozen depression and anxiety medications (this after trying a dozen other ones that didn’t work). My Doctor said the next step would be major tranquilizers as I was seeing and hearing things. My depression was definitely too far out of control.

In January she mentioned that it would be in my best interest to quit my job (I had been employed as a Baraga County Deputy County Clerk for 13 years).  She also said she would support, and do all she could do, to get me on Social Security disability due to multiple mental health problems.  A month later I handed in my resignation effective March 1^st.  As it turned out I still couldn’t hang in there until March, I had to take several weeks of sick and vacation time.

Mentally it was one of the best decisions that I have ever made.  With no other alternative and with the full support of Joe I left a well paying job that would leave us financially devastated.  It was truly necessary for my mental health and I yet felt that my job somehow defined who I was.

Prior to all of this, in seven months after my father passed away in January of 1996, I was admitted into the MGH Impatient Stress and Depression Unit.  It was far from a vacation, let me tell you, but was absolutely necessary at the time.

I don’t recall exactly how long I stayed there, but while there my medications were adjusted and I was able to hold on to “my sanity” until 2000.

Finally back to September 11^th.

As Joe was leaving for work that day there was late breaking news that a plane had hit tower number #1.  He stayed glued in front of the television horrified at the scene as it was unfolding. 

Having CRS – Can’t Remember Shit, I’m not exactly sure when I awoke but I immediately called Joe at work and the first words out of my mouth (expletive deleted) were, “What the hell is going on?”

In shock I don’t remember what exactly what he said except I asked him why he didn’t wake me.  Looking back he made the right decision not to, knowing my mental state and that I would learn about it soon enough.  After getting off the phone with him, I sat down and continued to watch in horror along with the rest of the world.  To me, one of the best descriptions of a hero is a person that runs into danger as everyone else is running away.

Rightfully so, the news continued to cover the unfolding events.  As they continued to show the coverage day after day, I couldn’t take it any longer and tried to get the images out of my mind and watched whatever comedy we had available.

I realize that I have been focusing mainly in New York, knowing that other cities were affected.  When I refer to September 11^th, I mean everywhere, every city and every plane that caused destruction.

Many, if not everyone asked and continue to ask, why it happened.  Where was God?  Why didn’t He stop it? 

For those questions I can only tell you what I believe and that is simply, He was there.

In the stories of every survivor.

For example

How normally there would have been more people in the twin towers at that time in the morning, saving countless people.

Hearing every prayer said all around the world.

Consoling everyone that lost a loved one and those that didn’t know if their family member had been in the tower or not.

Giving strength to the hero’s, both the ones doing their job and those that stepped up to do whatever they could do.

He was there with his arms wide open for all of those that were killed, bringing them to Heaven.

He was also in Heaven shedding tears.  We saw the debris of buildings, planes, the smoke, ash and papers flying around in the sky.  His tears were there also, even if we couldn’t see them.

I urge you to continue to pray for all of those still suffering with their individual issues as a result of that day.

I also urge you to remember that in every race there are good people and bad ones as well.  Hate breeds hate.  That is not what this country needs!

Scary times still continue.  Unfortunately that is a reality, but if there is anything we can do is to try look at the best in people.

Upon every ones death, we will be held accountable for our lives.  This is His job, not ours.

Geography is definitely not one of my strong suits.  I still can’t point out Iraq on a map (I can’t spell either so I’m not going to bother with the other countries).  But what I do know is our servicemen and women would rather be home with all the comforts it brings, than stationed away.

It doesn’t matter if you agree with the war or not, they, along with their families, are making huge sacrifices to keep America safe for each and everyone of us.  I urge you to pray and support them.  If you are unable to give financial support, a simple (and free) thank you to those families would be appreciated.

If you happen to see our servicemen and women in the armed forces, thank them for their service.

To sum this up.  God bless and protect America and all of us lucky enough to call Her home.

Katy Manning Schutte

Please Note:  This is my first post to the blog and I would like to include the following even though it truly has no place in this September 11th article.

I want to credit my beloved husband Joe.  His creative writing style of being able to work humor in everything he writes.  I Hope that during the 10 years of reading and being the 1^st editor of his column that some of his creativity has worn-off on me.  If not, blame him, I will.

I also want to say that I honestly believe that I would not still be alive if not for his unwavering support and love.  He has gone through more than you can ever image with my ongoing mental illnesses and numerous other major issues in my life.  He has always stayed by my side and keeps me and my mental health as his #1 priority.

With everything I have, and unfortunately continue to, put him through he is still with me.  It is my firm belief that no other man on the face of this planet would have stayed with me this long.

I pray for him (and would appreciate your prayers as well) both in thanks and also the heavy burden that he continues to carry.

Thank you for reading this article and I promise that they are not all gushy about Joe!

I like to consider my Life Is Like… articles everyday things and how God works into them.

As a teaser, upcoming ones include:

Life Is Like…

    Poo (yes, poo)

    An Anti-Virus

    Fingernails…Not A Box Of Chocolates

    A Septic Tank

    A Hot Flash

Again, thanks for reading and remember, if you don’t like my writing style, blame Joe!

Katy