Fighting My Body

by Summer D Clemenson | Oct 28, 2024 | About Summer, Opinions

I have been fighting my body for years. The chronic illness and pain is exhausting. The one step forward and 10 steps backwards can be so defeating. It has taken 10 years for me to create and get to a place of success with my anaerobic workout; which means I can do it every day and still do what I need to do. From this workout I have gained muscle which supports my arthritic body and lets me do more things than I used to be able to do. Walking has been a challenge.

It is hard to fight with my hips and knees but I never gave up because I want a life that is more active than it is now. Losing 50 lbs has helped. I have got stuck in a plateau so last week I decided to try to push myself a little harder. My first longer walk left me almost unable to walk for 2 days but walked as much as I could.

I have to build up my lungs for my hysterectomy where I will be upside down for the procedure. Air will be forced into my lungs. If they are not strong enough, they could collapse and the procedure will have to end.

I have not been able to be on the floor for years. When my cat, Xavier, was dying, I had to get down to see if he was alive under the bed. I was glad to see his shiny eyes, but my knees were screaming. But I want to play with my nephews and be a foster mom. I need to keep losing weight and building more muscle to support my joints and ligaments.

I am so excited to say I walked every day last week, for even only 8 minutes, except Tuesday. I walked 22 minutes yesterday and 23 minutes today. My body seems to be accepting something I want and I am dumbfounded. She usually fights me so hard. Wow!

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven. For anyone reading this that isn’t a Christian, unapologetically, I am a Christian, but I believe there is room for lots of beliefs and religions in the world. It is not my intent to offend people with different beliefs than I have and I would be open to open-minded conversations with no goals of changing anyone’s mind, but sharing information. If you are interested in becoming a Christian…Do you know Jesus? Do want the Holy Spirit to fill you and give you understanding and salvation? Ask Him. Want someone to pray with you? Contact me.

It’s Time to Move

by Summer D Clemenson | Oct 22, 2024 | About Summer, Opinions, Wellness

I bought into the WalkFit app. It’s on sale for $16 for the first month and $40 after that. You might wonder why I would do that when my wife, Karen G Clemenson, is one of the best personal trainers in Cowlitz County…well I am sensory person and there is just too much going on at a gym and I am truly very intrinsically motivated. I don’t usually need help. But I hate cardio. It’s time to move.

I have created several great wellness habits over the years, including an anaerobic workout that I do every day, but my nana was a very fit woman and still needed a triple bypass in her 50’s and even though scans show that my heart and arteries are all good, I still would like to avoid that situation. I would also like to be able to walk a 5K one day and return to Disneyland without help and right now I can’t honestly say my body is up for that.

I like that this app has several types of walking workouts, even indoor ones that are like light aerobic workouts. That is what sold it for me but I started with just a walk because I really haven’t walked much over the last month while I have suffered with a terrible migraine, my trigeminal neuralgia has been acting up and my TMJ has been giving me hell. I successfully walked for about 17 minutes without my cane or a shopping cart, which is how I usually get my walking in.

I have been considering this for some time but what really got me to actually move was my sister/friend, Jamie J Holloway. She has several severe mobility issues and is usually housebound and wheelchair bound. Sunday she had to go somewhere and couldn’t take her chair. I am so overwhelmingly proud of her. I know she is hurting Monday and super tired from all the walking with her walker. She had to stop a lot to catch her breath but she did it and she made it home. If she could do that, I could do this. I don’t think she realizes how much she inspires me. That’s why I post these things because we should all be proud of our accomplishments. We can inspire and influence each other to be better, like Jamie and Karen and so many others do for me.

Falling asleep was hard because my feet and knees were complaining but once the Deep Blue Stick took affect and I did my nightly feet exercises a few extra times I slept like a log. However today my hips are not happy. I spoke with Karen about it and she agreed that I should take it easy today. I still did my regular workout but my walking will be grocery shopping. I am still a person with two kinds of arthritis. I will walk tomorrow.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

I Tried to Call My Father Daddy Once

by Summer D Clemenson | Sep 19, 2024 | About Summer, Opinions

I was a dad’s girl. I tried to call my father daddy once and we both gave each other a look. We both knew he wasn’t a daddy. It wasn’t that he didn’t love me. I knew he loved me. It was just that neither of us was overly cuddly. We were more logical. I was in grade school and there were girls that called their dads by that name and I was trying it out. It was not natural. I didn’t do it again.

If Dad was available I would be by his side. I am sure I tried his patience a lot, but I did learn to work because that was what my dad liked to do. We worked in the yard. We worked on the cars and on the bikes. We built a shed. We worked in the garden. I wasn’t allowed to prune the trees or anything dangerous but I liked being with my dad. He thought more like me. Most of my questions didn’t overwhelm him. He was usually the most stable parent. If he got upset, there was always a reason; you knew to obey him and never do certain things.

My mom was different. Her mental illness made her different. I never really knew which mom I was going to run into. She was very emotional. She wanted a daughter that wanted to be coddled and I wasn’t that way. She had an easier time with my younger siblings.

My life seemed perfect until I was 5 years old. There is a definite line in my life that started there. My great-grandmother died. I called her Grammy. She was my favorite person. Jesus introduced Himself to me when I was playing under the apple trees in the backyard. I was by myself so there aren’t any witnesses but I will never forget that day and how I never really felt alone again. I also think that was the year that my parent’s marriage really began to fall apart.

My dad left when I was 9 years old. He had made promises to me about when I became a woman. He said he would still be there for me. But he lied.

He lied a lot.

He not only lied but he left me holding the bag. I now had all his responsibilities. He really did expect me to take care of my siblings and the house. He expected me to be happy when I came to visit him even though he emotionally abused me the entire car ride to his place where I had to be respectful of his girlfriend and eventual wife. I hated her. I am positive it was mutual.

Not one promise my father made to me, growing up, ever came true.

I tried to make friends with his wife, when I was a young adult, but she didn’t want that. It didn’t fit in with what she wanted. I was supposed to be the scapegoat.

In my young 20’s, I was in therapy and trying to become whole. It was hard because I didn’t know how to leave the abuse that we were all used to. But when I got married, I left and I finally had someone that asked me to not let them hurt me anymore. After several therapists had suggested I leave them behind, I told them I needed a break. It was supposed to be a break.

But my siblings cut me off. They tallied up anything they ever hated about me and rallied against me and anytime I tried to talk to my father he would tell me about them. I was so confused. He had always said that when we were adults, his job was done. If that was true than these things were none of his business. Why was he talking to me about things they should be talking to me about, but weren’t? Why was he yelling me about this? Why was I being abused still?

When I got cancer I didn’t want my parents to hear it from anyone but me. I felt like I should respect them at least that much. I had told my friends first but that had been in a text. I hadn’t actually said it out loud yet. I had heard it at the doctor’s office with my wife and texted my friends. This was a mistake. I called my mom first but she didn’t answer. So Dad got the message first and I broke down. While I was crying he was telling me about the problems with my damn siblings and their adult kids again. What the hell!

The call ended up with me calling my father a son of a bitch. A few weeks later I sent him a letter asking for forgiveness for my response to him. I don’t believe he deserves to be spoken to like that. But I also see how he brings out the worst in me. I told him I had to be done. I told him I didn’t want to be his daughter anymore. I didn’t want anything from him ever again. I loved him and I pray for him but I had to be done.

I know he didn’t understand this letter. I know he didn’t understand the level of pain I was in to make these statements; that after years of begging for respect and love and better communication, I was removing myself from his flock. Even though I see myself as the most like him and I understand why he does what he does, I have to protect myself. I have forgiven him but I had to leave.

His wife expects me to come back because she usually gets what she wants. She has written to me in his name. I know my father knows me. He knows when I say I am done that I really mean it. I know it was her that wrote the letter that I received the week after my grandpa died, knowing I would be hurting. She really expected me to want reconciliation and she really expected me to apologize but I don’t have anything to apologize for. I am not sorry.

I have repented to God for the pain that my healing has caused. I know that my telling my stories has caused pain because my growth and honesty hurts my fixed mindset extended family members that need to keep their secrets. It is healthy and necessary for me to tell my stories and I also know that there are people that read my stories and they are empowered by them and I want them to be. I am not so special that my stories can’t help someone just as they help me to heal.

I have been told that because I tell my stories I have betrayed my extended family members. That is the trouble with family abuse and traumas that are never dealt with until someone says; here and no further. Because my family has refused to get help with their traumas, which are there. Because they are there, they have perpetuated a system of pain. They could be proud of me. They could see that I am brave and honest. They could see that I have learned a lot of positive tools to deal with the things my brain and body lie to me about and they could join me in getting well. They have not chosen to change. They have that right.

There is a difference between forgiveness and repentance. When we repent we recognize we have made an error and we try our hardest to never do it again. I know this is next to impossible from my fixed mindset family. But it is not impossible for God to do anything. If God wants reconciliation He will make it happen. He knows what I need and what we all need. I trust Him.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

Growing Pains

by Summer D Clemenson | Aug 13, 2024 | About Summer, Cancer, Opinions, Queer Community

I am watching SEAL Team. It’s a rerun; the one where Jason’s wife is killed by a drunk driver. But this episode is not about Alana, it is totally about Jason. I am amazed to watch Jason’s entire team stop everything to support him. He is their leader but he is in need and they are there for him. They know he can handle war, but not this.

The stressful extended family dreams have made sleep frustrated lately. Every night I pray for them. I ask God to help me forgive them, in case I have missed something. I want them to to be happy. I want them to blessed. I want to be free.

This latest D&C has left me in pain. More than the others. I was told by someone that every time I go through these, there is scar tissue that gets re-traumatized. My oncologist said she was going to cut deeper this time to try to remove all the cancer. It is no wonder I hurt.

I asked for a second day of oxycontin. I have never done that before. I have to admit, I have considered asking for more but what if those pills are instigating some of the bad dreams? I need to get away from being alone, not being loved, heard, seen or valued.

I know it isn’t fair to say I wasn’t loved. I wasn’t loved in a way that felt good. I was needed. I was expected to hold things together. I was required to accept daily abuse and forgive. I was the one who served, regardless of my needs and wants. I was only supported if the other parent was at fault.

It should have got better when we became adults, but it didn’t. I was still at fault, not good enough, only there if I was to serve. No one chose to know me, hear me, or actually love me. I didn’t trust anyone because most people that said they loved me was a liar. They gossiped about me, rejected me and either lied about me or believed lies about me but never spoke to me. I was good enough to care for their babies until they were self-sufficient or their dog but I wasn’t good enough to invite to their day trips to the beach, or visits, school programs or even over for dinner. I wasn’t like them.

I can’t say I miss them. Who wants to drive four hours to be ignored? I miss the idea of the family I always wanted to love me but I am coming to peace with this.

I am definitely not a SEAL Team Member but I had seen people in my family support each other. I personally didn’t know what that felt like after my father left. I was told all my life that because I was fat I would never marry, have a good job and I would probably die young. Every ache and pain was blamed on my weight. When I went to the doctor, I don’t remember what they said but I do know that my parent would tell everyone what they knew. I had no privacy. I stopped going to the doctor.

When I was 25-years-old I started having medical issues but it was hard for me because I was so confused by how I had been raised. Also this was during the 1990’s when psychiatrists were over-prescribing medications and it was not helping me at all. This ended up being an even bigger mess and I still didn’t know I was an abuse victim, although I had kept working with a therapist.

When I was 35-years-old, it finally occurred to me to ask myself what I wanted out of life. I was so used to being told what to do and who to be. Anything I wanted that didn’t align to what my parents wanted was stupid. At this time, all I knew was that I wanted my family to love me.

Three years later, I got really sick. I had just worked with Living Ministries, our nonprofit, on a 24 hour telethon called Christmas Joy Telethon and I got the flu. I hadn’t told anyone that I had a sore on my left leg for 8 years. But this flu caused that sore to take over my leg. I knew I needed to go to the hospital but I wasn’t ready, mentally to go.

My family loves me by bullying me. My youngest sibling brought my nephew over to guilt trip me into going to the hospital. I was so angry. He and I have always had a special bond and I hated that his parent would put their child in this position. I promised him that I had a plan to go, I just needed time to be emotionally ready. I also apologized to him for what the family was doing to him. Of course the family that is closed-minded and doesn’t care what I think, did not care what I wanted, so they called the police and told them I was suicidal.

Soon I had a police officer banging on my locked bedroom door, demanding I come out. They didn’t know my name. They didn’t know anything other than I lived in my mother’s house and the family had decided I wanted to kill myself. I knew if I went with them, I would not get medical treatment. I would be taken to the behavioral sciences floor at PeaceHealth St John and probably isolated. This is not what I needed and I didn’t want this on my record.

God told me to stay calm. So I did.

My brother-in-law was preparing to break the door down. I calmly asked him to not break my mother’s house. Thankfully, he stopped.

I told the police officers, I would not let them in my room but I would open the door. I told them who I was and what was going on. When they heard about the telethon fundraiser for The Salvation Army, they relaxed. They did get me to let Karen G Clemenson in the room and one paramedic. The paramedic had already spoken with Karen. He agreed, when he saw the plain Greek yogurt and steamed broccoli that I was trying to eat that I was probably really concerned about my health and not wanting to die. He took my vitals and although they were a little high, they were not outrageous and the stress of being sick and the situation was a good reason for them being elevated.

I told him I planned to go to Legacy Salmon Creek in a couple of days. I was not interested in going to PeaceHealth St John. The paramedic said that was acceptable but if he was called back he would have to take me against my will. My leg was very swollen. I told him that he would not need to be called.

After I came home from the hospital, I think I felt a bit like Jason after his wife died. Alana had been the one to keep his life at home in control while he was away on special operations all over the world. I had been forced to let go of a lot of the walls I had built around myself to be able to ask for help. That part of me that took care of everyone and took the neglect and abuse didn’t want to do that anymore. I held on for as long as I could because I knew if I made a change, my nieces and nephews could be taken away from me. They were the only ones I had real relationships with. But at some point I had to take care of me. When I told my parents I had to take a break from them, my siblings chose my parents and took their kids with them; just as I expected.

I don’t have a large team. I have my wife, my sister/friend, Jamie Holloway, and one aunt that checks in with me. But I know my team has my back. I have spent the last 10 years learning how to listen to myself, love myself and be who I was created to be. Although I have told my parents I can’t have them in my life until they see therapists, so at least I know they are trying to be better, I doubt that will happen. Their traumas run deep. It is scary to admit the way you have lived all your life is not healthy and work to change it. I know. I have done it and I continue to do it. It is so much easier to say: This is who I am and if you don’t like it, leave — and that is what I did.

There came a day where I realized that one of my siblings had always been emotionally and sometimes physically abusive to me. My parents never protected me. This was their golden child. This sibling has paid greatly for their position, in my opinion. From the outside, they have a great life but they are miserable. So material things and manipulation have made them golden and I have no interest in competing.

It may sound like I resent this sibling, but I don’t. They have done what they need to do to survive. To be successful in a fixed mindset way. They have followed all the rules. Did everything as society told them and they look good. Most of the people I am related to are fixed mindset people.

I am a growth mindset person. I believe I can change and I can become what I want. However, convention had never interested me. I was not able to find success the way the rest of my family was. Probably a lot of that had to do with the chronic illness I live with. That as I learn to live with, I get better, however I have done it without them. When my youngest sibling was diagnosed with MS, we all did a 5K walk to support them. No one cares what I live with.

The siblings did reach out when I told my parents I have cancer. I will give them that. But it had been years with no communication. I just have nothing for them. I can’t carry any of them anymore and I don’t trust them. I have been talked about and set up too many times. I don’t want one more angry phone call, text or letter because they decided I am a monster when I am not, I’m just not the golden child.

There is a scene in this episode of SEAL Team, when Jason breaks all the beer bottles and then beats up the fridge and the garbage can until they are all dented. I can relate to his rage. Even though he scared his kids and he admitted he should not have done it, sometimes you have to let the anger out. Sometimes I have used my writing to vent, but even now, I don’t believe I am doing that. I have told some of these stories before, but not all of the details. I think I needed to share them. I needed to share that I am a reasonable person that has been treated unreasonably.

I can’t go back to how things used to be. I won’t hide my queerness to make one parent happy. I won’t let the other parent judge me when they are not without their own sin. I won’t compete with siblings that were raised by traumatized parents that didn’t have the emotional strength to handle 4 children so they forced us to compete for attention and other necessities.

After these last 10 years, I am used to being loved extravagantly by God and Karen and I don’t want any form of counterfeit. I am beautifully and wonderfully made by God and He has never left me or been shocked by me. He thinks that way about you too. I have my story. You have yours. God does not change.

I can’t worry about why my extended family thinks I wrote about them. Unfortunately, just because they ignored me and rejected me regularly, I was still there. This is my life I am writing about. I loved them. I gave to them because I wanted everything to be good. I sacrificed so much. There were teachers that would have helped me find a new home if I would have asked, but I knew I was needed at home while one parent worked and the other was off making a new family and was never there.

I knew mental illness was in my house but to this day there are working United States citizens that can’t afford health insurance so they don’t get the help they need and this is disgusting. A healthy workforce can pay more taxes and buy most stuff, let alone raise healthier children that will grow up and do the same. This makes so much sense to me as a former child of a single parent.

I was raised in a time when we didn’t know that kids could have chronic migraines. Fibromyalgia is still relatively new. Neurodivergence—OMG! How could my parents even deal with my anxiety disorder and depression when one was living with their own untreated mental illness and the other doesn’t believe mental illness is real?

Do you see how I had some short-comings? I have overcome so much! I understand how these things were missed. I am so thankful I know about what is going on inside my body now and I have a medical team that is helping me. They even agree that my wight is not my number one issue — however we now know that I have always been insulin resistant, even before I was diabetic, so diet, exercise and medicine are working for me.

In some ways, I feel sorry for my extended family because I am getting so much better, smarter, kinder, more patient and overall more interesting and compassionate. But I can’t share this with them because life is what it is and people make their own choices. I don’t come from people that forgive; themselves or anyone else. They seem to think I owe them apologies, but you don’t ask children to apologize for crying when they have growing pains and what I have done is just make space for me to grow.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

Forgiveness is the Best Gift Ever

by Summer D Clemenson | Jul 29, 2024 | About Summer, Opinions

Rumination is probably my best unconscious sport. I bet if I went to the Olympics I could bring home a gold metal for ruminating. I don’t mean to. I have OCD and PTSD and Anxiety Disorder and between those three disorders sometimes I am stuck in the past, trying to fix the outcome of events or I am stuck in the future worrying about things that haven’t happened yet. I don’t always realized I am doing this until I notice that my muscles are tensing and I am feeling angry or frustrated. Lucky for me, God is always with me and God loves the people I am fixated on, more than I ever could. As soon as I realize where I am at, I pray for the people in my mind and ask God to forgive me, and them, and to bless us both with a good night’s sleep, and I agree with whatever God is doing in their lives that brings God pleasure. Forgiveness is the best gift ever!

This week the opening act for the Olympics gave us a perfect opportunity to see where asking questions and being slow to anger is necessary. I don’t know Greek history but I do know the bible. When people were posting their half screen shots of the performance of the celebration of the Greek gods beside the painting of the Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci with angry comments poised at France and the performers, it was short-sighted. One, the celebration of the Greek gods was not the same thing as the Last Supper in the bible. Two, the painting by Leonardo da Vinci, although is attractive and a show of great talent, is incorrect as well because Jesus and His disciples are Jewish and not white. Their skin should be brown and their hair would never be blonde. Three, before we spend our energy getting angry at things we don’t understand, we should always ask questions and pray before we accuse anyone. This scenario is the perfect place where forgiveness and mercy are necessary.

When I was growing up I didn’t like my grandpa Clemenson. I had several reasons. Some of them were probably based in my neurodivergence, which we didn’t know about. I am sensitive to energy and noises. My grandfather had a powerful authoritarian energy that didn’t do anything for my relationship and success motivated personality (but I only like to compete with myself). He also had a very loud voice and made loud noises that startled me. He made me nervous. I also didn’t like hugging him because of where he would put his hands. I was angry that I knew that my father had been abused as a child by both his parents and was, in fact, the scape goat and endured more abuse than most of his 8 siblings and finally moved out when he was 14 years old. I know that things changed after my grandfather stopped drinking. It was easier to forgive my grandmother because she was always caring for everyone. It was easier to see that she loved my father. When my grandfather died, I read his obituary and he did some amazing things. There were many things to respect about my grandfather. He was a very hard worker. He married my grandmother when she was pregnant and raised another man’s child, as his own. My grandparents helped a lot of the neighborhood children with housing, clothes and food. My grandparents were married for almost 50 years; he died before their anniversary. These are all honorable things. I have also learned many things from my Aunt Elaine. She has many great stories about him, where he was kind and gentle, that I would never have known about.

I am writing about this because I was surprised to have him come visit me in a dream last week. I am used to Grammy and Grandma Clemenson and Nana coming to see me, but I have never had Grandpa Clemenson come to see me ever, until last week. He was young, like in some of the pictures Aunt Elaine has shown me, he was slim and had hair. He was softer and calmer too. I don’t remember exactly what he said but it was something like: You don’t know the whole story. You only know your side of my story and your dad’s story. I felt like he was trying to tell me about my dad.

I feared and disliked my grandfather so much that I went by a made up last name in my 20’s. It took me a long time to forgive and let go of things I can probably never completely understand. But I did. With the help of God and therapy, I was able to begin to accept healing for myself and even my ancestors. My grandfather coming to see me was a reminder of how far I have come. I am thankful for that dream. It is nice to have a non stressful moment with my grandfather.

I also know that there are things I will never know about my father. I have forgiven him for a lot. I don’t see us changing though. I have tried so hard to have him in my life, but his traumas are still right on his sleeve. I don’t require perfection but I do require attempts and he will not see a therapist. We are wired the same and I think we could build a relationship because we really can, not talk about topics that trigger us but his wife won’t let that happen. Now that I am married, I understand that I can’t ask him to leave her behind, if he were to come for a visit. She will still be there. I can’t have her in my life.

Forgiveness sets us free from the past. It lets us move forward but that doesn’t mean we can go back. Mercy is for moving forward. The difference between artistic expression on the television and family is that one is for a moment and we can turn it off or walk out of the room and make a cup of tea while it plays out. It is easy to ask questions for clarification and within a few days people will answer all your questions. You don’t have to spend one second being angry or having any feelings that are a waste of time. When people we love hurt us, it is a bigger situation, especially if they keep doing it over and over and you have tried to peacefully make it stop and that hasn’t worked. But in reality the response is the same. When we feel wronged, we must forgive. Forgiveness is definitely the best gift ever. And when we are beat up and tired and don’t know how to get up and keep going, that is when mercy comes in and shows us that we are not alone and we don’t even have to get up on our own. That is God.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

Sometimes Yesterday Is Right Now

by Summer D Clemenson | Jun 18, 2024 | About Summer, Opinions, Prayers, Queer Community, Wellness

I got triggered by Father’s Day. I didn’t realize it was Father’s Day before I went on Facebook and saw all the great posts everyone had for their dads. I write about my journey to celebrate my steps and share what I have learned with others that might benefit from my path. I have PTSD and sometimes yesterday is right now but I have new tools.

The episode didn’t actually start on Sunday but had started earlier. Pride usually reminds me of several things that make me feel loss and I work through them. I assume that most of my extended family doesn’t even realize how their actions have affected me and how my mind has created connections through Pride Month; it only makes sense to me and isn’t even fair to include them so I forgive because it isn’t anything they actually did. But the tenderness was already there when I saw the pictures of women with their dads, dancing, fishing, doing puzzles, gardening, cooking or any other relationship building activity.

The most recent reason my extended family is not in my life is that when I needed answers, no one could give me answers that made me feel peace, joy, safety and loved so I left them behind me. I never had success when I was around them so I needed to leave them. Love was not enough. It is my fault I am not in their lives. It was my choice. I do not choose to bad mouth them. They are successful with each other. I was the one that didn’t fit. I found other people that had no problem with my needs.

This truth does not erase my history. I still have PTSD. Once I realized that the emotions I was feeling were not reliable or even recent, I needed to listen to them before they leaked out on an innocent bystander. By the time I was really aware of them they were a big red ball of emotions, mostly anger and hatred toward two people. I have forgiven them so many times. These things are old. I was sitting with God, knowing that I had already forgiven these things. I knew I didn’t hold this against them anymore. My goal was peace. So I began reminding myself of what is true today: They are just people. They are not perfect. They have their own traumas. They have done the best they could. They don’t benefit from my anger and hatred.

I felt the ball of emotions begin to shift as I reminded myself that I don’t want this. I don’t benefit from these emotions anymore. I want them to do well. I want them to be blessed. I want them to have a good life. I want God to love them.

I am going to be honest. I don’t like one of them. It took me almost 30 years to be honest with myself that I hated them. I had to say that so I could forgive myself for that hatred. I don’t hate them anymore but I don’t trust them and I don’t like them and I refuse to have them in my life. It is hard to be loving toward someone you feel that way about. But removing my emotions, I know that my anger and hatred does not benefit anyone that they are around that I love. Those emotions don’t help me either.

The ball of emotions had become very manageable.

It is not always easy to forgive or pray for the people in our past. But it gets easier. It isn’t about those people that once had so much say in our lives. It is about letting them go so we can have peace.

This is a hard article to write. There is a part of me that still wants to tattle. She is many ages of Summer, but I am in control and I am a lady. I am here and I want to see my readers get well and I don’t think telling on people will make anyone feel better. In reality it never made me feel better. I think that sharing what I have learned is what actually helps me move forward.

There are many paths to wellness. For me, medication and therapy, several types, has been a life saver for me. I think everyone should see a therapist for at least a period of time in their life. We can all use more tools to help us use our words and our minds to help us process what the world throws at us. I do know, for me, I would not be here without my relationship with God. God has always turned me in the right direction and spoken truths to me when I was ready to hear them. As I leaned into Them, I learned more and especially gained that peace, joy, safety and love I was looking for.

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The Apology

by Summer D Clemenson | May 11, 2024 | About Summer, Opinions

I have been angry for a few weeks. I knew somewhere I needed to make amends but I didn’t know where the apology was supposed to be headed until today. My sister, Jamie Holloway, sent me a link to the cover song version of “Voices Carry” sung by Kate Hudson. I really enjoyed their version but I was getting angry while hearing the words…Shush…voices carry. Shut up! Voices carry. I hate the phrase “shut up.” I wasn’t allowed to use that term growing up. I wasn’t allowed to use it but other people were allowed to tell me to shut up. Don’t tell our secrets. Don’t tell your dad this. Don’t tell your mom this. Don’t say this. Don’t say what I said…

You know what? I am done being told to not speak.

This is part of a letter I sent to someone recently. They had asked me to keep our conversations out of my blog. I told them I would use discretion. I didn’t promise I would not write about my life. I didn’t consider my poetry, where I process my emotions and some of my dreams, but they were concerned about one of my poems where they were neither named or quoted and I am not saying it was or was not about them now.

I spoke to my therapist about my letter because in the rest of the letter, for the first time, I was honest with this person about myself. I have never been honest with this person. I have known them my whole life and never been honest with them because when I have been, I hurt them and their idea of me and they wont go to therapy. I don’t want them to not have someone to go to, who can explain to them that I don’t hate them, but I have to be free to be myself and to protect myself too.

You know what he told me? He told me that sometimes we need to talk and write about what happened to us. He told me that if anyone didn’t like what I had to write, they were free to not read it. If anyone asked them about my blog they were free to tell anyone they knew that they choose to not read it.

It made sense to me. I don’t choose to read much about Trump. I don’t choose to say much about him. When asked about him, I say, I don’t choose to read or speak about Trump. Why? Because the first two years of his presidency I couldn’t say President Trump without having an anxiety attack. I avoided Twitter, yet I couldn’t turn on the news without the press telling what he tweeted. He loves chaos and I hate it, so I avoid him.

If what I write bothers you. Don’t read it or talk about it.

This aligns with the bible too. God tells us that until we let the light of truth in we can’t heal. I have been in the dark for a long time and I am getting used to holding my wounds in the light where they can be healed by truth.

I owe a big apology to myself. I am sorry Summer. I have let people keep you quiet, when you didn’t want to be; sometimes when it hurt you to be quiet. I have let other people stifle you from sharing some of your healthy thoughts, and good habits. I have let others abuse you with your own silence. I don’t just share my life here to show off that my brain is healing and that I am growing, although I am very proud of that. I am hoping to get the attention of other emotional abuse survivors who need to know that it is ok to mess up. It is ok to speak. It is ok to try. It is ok to fail. It is ok to leave. It is ok to do what you have to do to get better. You don’t have to let people hurt you just because that is the way we have always done it. It is ok to expect change before reconciliation. It is ok to not want reconciliation. It is ok to not be sorry for telling the truth and say YOU ARE NEVER GOING TO GET AN APOLOGY FROM ME FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME.

I have a great life because I expect authenticity and the attempt at wellness from the people in my life. I am done with chaos. I have found my voice.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

In My Prayers You Will Stay

by Summer D Clemenson | Apr 29, 2024 | About Summer, Poetry

I am not afraid of the Spirit within me
I am not afraid of my emotions or memories
that cause physical sensations deep in my muscles
that remind me where I have been
and how far I have come
But I am afraid you will never see or hear who I really am

You offered me a gift with
no strings attached
I didn’t say anything about the strings that have always been there
So you must be confessing that
You don’t give anything freely

I read somewhere that
when you love someone you want the best for them
when you are attached to them you want what you can get out of them
I don’t have anything else to give you
But when I think of you
I ask God to give you your heart’s desire

I don’t want to find you guilty anymore
but you are the one that abused me
You taught your children to treat me like your slave
You are the one that shunned relationship first
There are many reasons I can’t trust you

But I still love you
So in my prayers you will stay

Note: These flowers don’t have anything to do with this poem but they are pretty and should be remembered. My wife, Karen G Clemenson’s coworkers gave them to her while she was recovering from her hysterectomy.

I Know God is Carrying Me

by Summer D Clemenson | Apr 25, 2024 | About Summer, Cancer, Opinions

I am so tired and I know God is carrying me. Most of the time my prayers are: God please help. Not only for myself but when I see what is going on in the world. I am not the only one that is overwhelmed. It is hard to think about the wars in the world and the children being killed or kidnapped and the families being hurt and people who are sick when you, yourself are so overwhelmed. But God is good and He knows our struggles. He is good at answering: God please help.

In November when Karen G Clemenson got sick, I was in shock. She doesn’t get sick. I am the sick one. But we ended up at the hospital twice and found out she had a baseball sized tumor behind her right ovary. She didn’t have health insurance. Her state insurance had just been canceled and she hadn’t had time to start the process of signing up through her work. The process to get all the coverage took much longer than the few days we were promised and 6 months later we are still working on the dental plan. But besides the $15,000 bill from the ER, she is covered for her medical and we area grateful.

My dental insurance only covers cleanings and diagnostics and I had a bad dentist that told me my impacted wisdom teeth were no big deal. My new dentist has said other things. Like one of my molars was dead and had to be removed and I have to have the impacted wisdom teeth out and I have another 2 teeth that need fillings, one specifically because of another impacted wisdom tooth. Karen’s dental insurance, if we could get it to settle, would cover these things but it has taken so long that my bad molar broke. So we went in to have it removed two weeks ago and gave them the insurance and are waiting to see if they will cover any of it. Of course my mouth is still healing and it is hard to get used to my new mouth.

Meanwhile Xavier got really sick and needed a lot of care and finally I knew this wasn’t just a flare and we took him to see Dr Katie, who confirmed that it was best to help him go to Jesus, which I wrote about in RIP Xavier. I never really had time to even mourn because the next day we had to prepare for Karen’s surgery.

Yesterday, we were so thankful that our friend,Jho, picked us up at 4 am to take us to PeaceHealth Southwest Washington for Karen’s robotic hysterectomy. I was so thankful when Dr Rushing called me to tell me that she did really well in the surgery and he was confident that her tumor was benign. He felt that she would be able to leave in 4 hours, once she had had another blood test. When you have a surgery like this you have to have another blood test 4 hours after the surgery to make sure you aren’t losing blood. Her test turned out well.

The other thing that can happen after this type of procedure is that you have trouble urinating. The trauma in that area can cause things to freeze up for some women and Karen is one of them. Karen did not get to go home 4 hour later. In fact she ended up staying all night and finally being sent home with a catheter. We are hoping her primary can remove it tomorrow so she doesn’t have to go back to Vancouver tomorrow.

As I am writing this I heard a soft voice of my wife, saying she misses our boy. I do too.

I am flaring up. My body does not handle stress well at all. Since I have an IUD as part of my cancer treatment, I don’t have periods but when I am totally on tilt, I spot. I have been spotting. I have sores in my mouth. My body hurts more than usual. My appetite is scarce. I feel defensive.

But I know that God hears: God please help.

One little blessing is this plant start. On the day that Xavier (pronounced like Javier) went to Jesus, one of Karen’s coworkers gave us a start to a praying hands plant. I had been thinking I should get a plant. I have named her Xavier (pronounced the traditional way) Elizabeth.

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RIP Xavier

by Summer D Clemenson | Apr 23, 2024 | About Summer, Opinions

I knew Xavier was sick and would probably need to go to Jesus when we took him to see Dr Katie yesterday. I had known it was different this time. His IBS flares usually only lasted a week but no more. He never stopped eating longer than a day or two. I heard myself saying to myself that I needed to hold him as long as he would let me because there would come a day I could not hold him anymore. I didn’t usually take pictures of him and me but I felt like I needed a picture with him because our time was coming to an end. When Karen G Clemenson got this flood of hope, yesterday morning, that it was only another mouth infection and we would just get some antibiotics and he would get better, I wanted to agree with her, but I knew it was not so.

I had cried so many tears already. Xavier was fastidious with his grooming and he was a compulsive eater and he had quit both of these things 2 weeks ago. He was drinking a lot of water and still using his litter box but he wouldn’t touch his food or take his probiotic, which he used to love. He still had loose stools and dry heaves. But he was trying to be positive for us.

He would purr when I came into the room or when I read out loud. He loved to hear me read my bible out loud. Even though he wasn’t jumping up to lick the ink on my notebook pages anymore, I could hear him purring from under the bed, yesterday morning. If he was in the bathtub, his other favorite spot, he would always say hello to us when we came in.

Xavier was born on September 10, 2008. I met him 8 weeks later while visiting a church. He was a different kind of cat. He was stimulated very easily and more anxious than most cats. I knew if I didn’t get him a companion while he was a kitten, I would not be able to have another animal but it just didn’t work out, and he proved me right. Xavier did not understand how to play with other animals. He was terrified of most people and animals. He was a biter and it took a toll on me. I prayed a lot about how to handle this high strung ball of fluff and God told me how to give him his space and pay attention to his very small cues. Xavier helped me understand things about myself and he became the perfect emotional support animal for me.

It took at least 2 months for Xavier to accept Karen but they build the cutest relationship. He had very little patience for her constant movements and noises but eventually he learned to dance with her (literally). He never let Karen hold him. That is something only I was allowed to do. But Karen was the only one allowed to give him kisses. When he was well, he would make sure she got up with her alarms for work and walk her to the door when she left. If she was late he would pace and worry until she came home. I was the nurturer so I got out of the way and let Karen be the fun mom and it was great.

Xavier was very opinionated like me. In fact, Karen often said he was just like me. She thought it was hilarious to watch us fight; we both have very bad tempers, although it usually takes a lot to get us angry. He had learned my facial expressions which was so odd to see in a cat’s face. He loved jazz and piano music. His favorite essential oils were doTERRA’s On Guard and Frankincense. He refused to drink standing water and was often found in the bathtub; he could even get water out of a faucet that wasn’t turned on. He would not eat any other food other than his hard prescription food, although as he got older he learned to like to share a few licks of my tapioca pudding. He hated when we sang; he even slapped Karen for singing when she was too close to him once…we both laughed at that one!

Xavier was not an easy animal. He made me work but he also helped me a lot. While I was going through the toughest time of my mental illness and chronic illness he reminded me to take my meds, he encouraged me to do my workouts, sometimes he was the reason I got out of bed because he demanded that things were done a certain way. Now that my brain is more healed and I have established some good habits I know I couldn’t have done it without him because he learned to do what Karen did, while she was at work and he did it.

This weekend I told him that I knew he was sick. I told him that I wanted him to get better but that if he needed to go, I understood. Every time he saw me he would purr. I know he was telling me he loved me. Yesterday when it was time to go to see Dr Katie, he wouldn’t come out from under the bed so I had to move the bed to get him and he purred when he saw me. I had told him the night before that we were going to see Dr Katie and she was going to help him. I scooped him up and we went to the bathroom to get a drink before we went. I wanted to believe Karen that it was just a mouth infection but the pain I had been feeling for days was too real. I brought him out and let Karen love on him a bit before he went into his carrier and unlike usual, he purred the entire way to the vet.

After she examined him, Dr Katie explained that Xavier had signs of kidney or liver issues or possibly cancer. He was 15 and a 1/2 years old and it was the right thing to do to let him go. He was agreeable the entire time. He knew we were helping him. He went to sleep peacefully in my arms before Dr Katie gave him the injection that put him to sleep forever. His heart stopped right after I said: I love you Xavier. You are my good boy kitty…Like I always told him…

Xavier Rock’On Clemenson died on Monday April 22, 2024 but he lives in our hearts forever. RIP Xavier.

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I Was Locked Out of My Facebook Account

by Summer D Clemenson | Feb 26, 2024 | About Summer, Opinions

On the day after I had surgery I got an email from PayPal that my transaction with Facebook had gone through. I was on pain killers and supposed to be resting but I did not purchase any ads subscriptions with Facebook or Meta and I was angry. I had been having trouble with my Facebook for a while and had been locked out of my account, supposedly by Facebook. So I contacted PayPal and let them know that I did not authorize any purchases through Facebook or Meta and since I was locked out of my Facebook account and could not cancel any other purchases I was unable to do anything about any other subscriptions and I wanted them to help me. They would not refund my money but they did cancel the future subscriptions and give me an email address I could contact Facebook / Meta to try to recover my money.

I told my sister, Jamie Holloway, about it and she googled and found a number online that said you could contact it if you didn’t have a Facebook account, which essentially I don’t.

So I didn’t call right away. I waited until I cooled off a bit. I was pretty angry and I try not to call people when I am angry. Now I realize I should have waited a few days because I would have more able to make better choices. I was there enough to recognize things that didn’t make sense, just not enough to realize I should be on the phone with this person.

When I called 1-888-317-4150, which I don’t recommend you ever call, the man that answered the phone said, “Good afternoon,” but he didn’t say he was Facebook or Meta. As someone who used to work at an answering service, I know that mistakes can be made but normally you are reading from the screen how to answer the phone for your client and your client wants the name of their business used. I asked him about this and he agreed that he was Facebook, I figured he just made a mistake.

He asked me a few questions and told me that my Facebook account had been hacked by people in Indiana and Ohio. He also mentioned a specific man’s name, which I didn’t write down. I don’t know anyone in those states that would hurt me and I didn’t know that man.

He told me that he needed to be able to differentiate between me and the hackers so he could clean up my account. He said the hackers had attached my PayPal, Venmo, Cashapp, Walmart, Amazon and Target accounts to my Facebook account. I told him that I don’t have a Cashapp account and that I don’t shop at Target and I don’t have a Target app. He actually argued with me about that. I thought that was odd. I also told him I have never used my Venmo account with Facebook and and he said we had to check anyway.

He had me download the Any Desk Remote Desktop App on my phone. He also asked what kind of computer and phone I used. I also had to download Facebook again. He asked me why I deleted the app and I told him that after 20 years on the platform I was angry that someone could post something in my name and I could be locked out my account and there was no one to talk to about it. He also had me go into Settings on my phone, click on General and then look at Legal and Regulatory. He asked me if I had been to any of the countries listed there, but I am sure he was looking at the model number of my phone.

Next he had me go into every other account and try to send money or make purchases. I kept telling they wouldn’t go through. I am poor. I don’t keep money in my debit account. They didn’t go through. In Amazon, although I told him the gift card he wanted me to purchase would not go through because my wife’s debit card had been lost and I hadn’t updated her information he told me to do it anyway. We got the email. He told me to throw it away and dump the trash. When we got to Walmart, it was the last stop and he told me to use my credit card to buy an eGift card. I was under duress and I wasn’t sure the purchase would go through because I keep a small limit on my credit card on purpose. When it did go through, he told me to throw away the email telling me it went through and dump the trash.

Soon after I got off the phone with him, I began to realize what had just happened. I called Amazon and they were glad to cancel the eGift card. Although we had got the email, it had not gone through and they were waiting for an updated payment method and I didn’t have one to give them. Walmart, however would not cancel my purchase. I spoke with two people on their website chat and one person at customer service at 1-800-925-6278 that day. I tried to add the eGift card as a payment option in my Walmart account because my pharmacy is at Walmart and my wife had an upcoming vision appointment and I thought we could just use the $200 that way and pay the credit card with the money we would have spent on my prescriptions and her doctor appointment, but each time I tried to add the card I was told the card number and pin number didn’t match and customer service had no answer for me other than to call Walmart Card Services in a few days.

On Feb. 20 I did email the email address PayPal gave for Facebook / Meta but I haven’t heard back yet.

Since that time, I have changed all my passwords and some of my email addresses on all accounts and replaced my debit and credit card. Talk about a hassle. On Feb 21, I called Walmart Gift Card Services at 1-888-537-5503 and was finally told the reason my card can’t be used or added to my account was because it was used almost immediately. I was advised to call the police and let my bank know.

I was not able to call the police on the 21st because by the time I put all my thoughts together it was too late to talk to anyone about non-emergency issues. On the 22nd I chickened out and the Longview Police Department is not open Friday through Sunday. I called today to find out that I could have reported my issue online, which is what I did. I am now waiting to hear if they will accept my police report.

This whole situation has been very painful for me. I have given it a lot of thought and realized that since the middle of January, I have been under the impression of people that wanted to hurt me. I had several business accounts that we did little with and they were trying to reach us through those pages. I got messages threatening to take those pages down if I didn’t prove who I was, so I was giving them information that I might not have shared with them otherwise. That is how they gained access to my account and locked me out of my account. I don’t click on surveys, fill out questionnaires or ever click on those memes that say click on this to find out such and such about yourself because I know they could be a phishing plot, but I love to read and I remember they got me once because there was an interesting looking article that one of my friends didn’t post…they caught me because I love to read. The minute I was on a weird site, I knew I had made a mistake. I have been so careful and that one mistake cost me.

I don’t blame Facebook / Meta. It is my job to be careful online but I am hurting. I am responsible for my safety everywhere. I am a person with trauma experience and this feels so much like past experiences, except with people that don’t know me. I am working through my pain. I miss Facebook. I have been trying to engage on X and Instagram but they are not the same as Facebook. I am a reader and a writer and people don’t give their opinions on X and Instagram. Even when I didn’t agree with people’s opinions on Facebook, I either kept scrolling or it gave me something to think about. I miss the people on Facebook. I can’t seem to find some of my favorite people and even when I do, they don’t interact the same way on X and Instagram. I told that to Jamie and she asked me if I was ready to get a new Facebook. I told her I wasn’t ready yet. But I am working on it.

I have learned a lot though. I thought I knew these things, but I only knew them in my head. Now I know them in my heart. It is one thing to know about online safety measures. It is another thing to understand how vulnerable and victimized you can feel when someone takes advantage of you, just because they can. I told that man I was an honorable person and I know there are other people that are honorable online and I hope that somewhere that resounds with him. I hope he finds a new job.

Why am I sharing this with you? Because this can happen to anyone and if this helps anyone then my pain is not without merit. Be blessed.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

There Are Lots of Kinds of Pain

by Summer D Clemenson | Feb 16, 2024 | About Summer, Opinions

There are lots of kinds of pain. At the beginning of my last therapy session I had told my therapist that I was having a pain day and he asked me how I handled that. I told him that I responded differently, based on the kind of pain it was. If it is arthritis pain, it is kind of constant or sharp and if I push through with movement and exercise I might be able to loosen up and move beyond the pain and have a productive day. If it is a fibromyalgia pain day, it feels like more of a metallic or battery like pain and you really can’t do anything about it. You must be careful and do little movements, rest and try not to instigate more pain for the next day. Naps are important. If it is emotional pain you have to decide if it is suicidal pain or just blue pain. I haven’t been suicidal in several years and I am very thankful. Suicidal pain means you need to get help now. Depression pain means you might need to pamper yourself a bit; take a nap, give yourself a treat, find someone that loves you and talk with them or do something fun.

I am of the mind that we should do something pampering every day so I always have a good cup of coffee and try to read things that make my brain feel good. I am a naturally ambitious person that lives in a body that can’t do as much as I want it to so I have to find balance. But I have a 15 minute workout I do every day. I have missed my 1/2 mile walk for a few days because I had a D&C on Tuesday and I am letting my body heal from that but I plan to go shopping tomorrow so I will be back to walking tomorrow. Prayer makes me feel more connected to my Savior and I do that any time I want. There are so many things you can bring into your life that helps you feel pampered and that you love yourself. I also text or talk to my sister, Jamie Holloway, every day, She always enlightens or stretches me.

For that last couple of weeks I have been dealing with being kicked off of Facebook. This is stressful to me. I miss the people I am used to interacting with. They are not on the other platforms I am on. But bigger than that, I was kicked off because my account was hacked and then I was locked out of my account by the hackers. Because of this I have been on the phone with several financial institutions, destroyed all my cards and had to get new ones and changed all my passwords and most of my email addresses on my accounts. I feel violated. I feel stupid. I need to forgive myself and I think I have but I still feel raw. No one has the right to take advantage of people like this, yet with the ease that people have assured me that this happens all the time, it makes me feel more angry that it is so common.

But this is not how I want to live my life. I have spent a lot of my life being angry. It didn’t make my life better. Instead, I like to think about how to be more positive and how I can see the blessings in situations.

When I was at the library Saturday, the librarian was mentioning how hard it was to get old. I told her I thought it was a blessing because so many people don’t get the opportunity to get old. She paused and told me that she was going to start thinking about that because her son had died a few years ago at the age of 38. I told her I was so sorry for her loss. And then I told her that I saw on TV how much people lament getting old but in reality being older is a blessing. As I have gotten older, there is a peace about things I know I don’t have to worry about anymore that when I was younger, I wasted so much time on. I am so much comfortable with myself now. Yes, there are aches and pains and I look different now than when I was younger, but that is just vanity. She seemed to be really touched by our conversation.

When I came out of surgery on Tuesday, I was anxious, which is normal for me but I had a really great nurse that helped me focus on what I needed to focus on to be able to go home. While we were talking I was sharing about my life and as she listened to me talk about my perspective of pain, sickness and being well and she was thankful for me. When she had to pass me off to the next hands that took me back to my room she told the nurse, she wished she could keep me all day or have patients like me all day; I really inspired her. I wasn’t doing anything but talk about my family and the choices I have learned to make to have a better life.

I ask God to help me be a blessing to the people He puts in my life so that He can have the glory as often as I can remember. I think He did that on both these occasions.

I have prayed for the hackers that have attacked me. I want them to stop hurting people. I want them to find Jesus and a more honorable job. I want them to understand that no one deserves to be treated with such disregard. I am not any more special than anyone else but I know what my family is going through and what we have worked hard to obtain and I wouldn’t want anyone else to go through this added stress. But this too is pain. It is getting smaller. But it is ok to acknowledge that this hurts too.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

That is What They Know

by Summer D Clemenson | Feb 6, 2024 | About Summer, Chronic Illness, Opinions

I have a person from the past that emails me. I always respond but I don’t tell them too much. Just enough. I know they love me but our relationship has always been toxic. It isn’t their fault. They are a good person they just need some help and I can’t give it to them. I have asked them to go to therapy, take the meds that a medical professional suggests, get better. They know that I have chosen to keep them out of my daily life, they always elude to that at the beginning of their email. It is part of how they communicate. If they tell me anything about themselves, it is how overwhelmed they are, a complaint about something they won’t get help with, but could. It is a pattern they are following because that is what they know. They never answer any questions I ask. They never ask any questions about me. These two statements tell me they still don’t know how to have an equal relationship, where I won’t be expected or needed to be the servant. I am afraid to let them closer to me partially because my blunt and honest communications style hurts their feelings and also their need to be served fits into my old patterns that triggers all my mental illnesses: Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder.

When they first emailed me yesterday, I told them about a few things that have changed and things that were coming up. They never respond to my emails. I was surprised to get a response on the same day. In their second email they were telling me they were surprised that I responded. But I don’t understand that because I always answer their emails.

They wanted to walk with me. I told them no. I can’t do more than email right now. I said this for many reasons. First, I can’t go back to the old relationship we had. I need proof that they are different and they haven’t shown me that they have done anything to get better. Second, the actual type of biological relationship we had is not going to work for me and I don’t think they can just be my friend; because they haven’t proven they are doing anything to get better. Three, when I am walking I don’t talk; I am in pain. Every step is excruciating and I am just trying to get through the walk. I don’t want to hurt their feelings but my walks are all about me getting through it and I am not social at all.

In the past when I have tried to take care of myself and set boundaries I have been told I was selfish; this person suggested that I always have to have things my way. I am a neurodivergent person and a chronically ill person. They are right. I do have to have things my way sometimes, but not because I am selfish. I have a sick body and mind and many times I am not in control of what she is going to do, but also I wasn’t made to be a servant to my family; I was made to be a servant of God and He doesn’t ask me to give until I am sick like my extended family has.

I am not without compassion and empathy for this person. I pray for them and love them but I can’t save them; I have tried many times but I know now that it is not my job to do that. I also know how strong and capable they are to do this for themselves. If this person wants me in their life they are able to get the help they need to overcome the things that overwhelm them for their sake and mine. I know because I have done it and continue to do it. It doesn’t happen over night. Wellness is a path that we walk for the rest of our lives but it takes us choosing to make the necessary changes. I have seen this person make many positive changes in their life. If they want me in their life they will go to therapy, learn how to set and respect boundaries, learn how to have a balanced relationship and see me for who I actually am and not for who they want me to be. Until I can see those changes, our relationship will have to be email only.

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I Don’t Have Self-Esteem Issues

by Summer D Clemenson | Jan 18, 2024 | About Summer, Opinions, Prayers

I have been thinking about a response I got to a post I made on Facebook last week about an interaction I had with someone. I didn’t post the conversation with the person because I wanted to get kudos for myself. I wanted to encourage anyone that needed it to make efforts to see the people around them. But I was surprised when someone responded to my post that they saw my light no matter what I felt about myself. I was surprised about this because I don’t have self-esteem issues. In fact I have come to a point in my life that there is a quiet peace. I am satisfied with myself. I know my Creator is happy with me. I know my wife and my sister are happy with me. I know even my cat is happy with me. I honestly don’t want to hurt anyone, I want to be a blessing, but I don’t need the approval or adoration of anyone.

I don’t know if this is age or just that I spend most of my time with God and Karen G Clemenson, Jamie Holloway and Xavier and we all have a high level of integrity, communication and honesty and we don’t play games with each other. This has helped me a lot. This stability I have always craved is content. The resiliency that we have had to cultivate has made us more pliable. The fact that we all understand that we do not see, hear or understand all that God does, but that we know He has us and will never leave of forsake us is powerful. We remind each other as needed. This no nonsense way of life is refreshing.

I suppose having to let people go, that I have love for, because they can’t hear me has made a difference. It was a hard process. There was mourning involved. There were many emotions involved. But there was also healing involved and honesty that has honored my self. They can’t or won’t hear me but I did. God did. He knows that I don’t want reconciliation with people that can’t or won’t hear me or respect my individuality; that I wasn’t put on this earth to serve them. I was put on this earth to serve God and He has other ideas. He needs me to be whole and able to make decisions with an un-fractured mind. He isn’t afraid of my diagnosis’ and my need for medications or therapy. He isn’t afraid of my history. He was with me every step of the way and He will be with me for every one I have yet to make.

My self-esteem is grounded in the same place my light is — in the salvation and new life I have in Jesus Christ. That doesn’t mean I don’t struggle. It means I never struggle alone. That light that person was referring to in my post was not me by myself but me in Jesus and Jesus in me.

I have been in a place that seemed like a struggle but really it was a place of rest. I was learning to trust God; that He would provide no matter what. We are getting ready for a new home. We are getting ready for a new path or at least a bigger view of the one God has had us on. God has been preparing us for something new and we are ready. That will mean I might not spend as much time at home, or maybe people will be coming to me, we shall see what He has in store but I won’t be alone so much, I know it. I have learned to relish the time alone and to talk more freely to God because He is my best friend and He is always here and I shouldn’t hold back. He knows everything anyway…

There were a lot of things that I learned from The Birthday Card I Didn’t Want. It wasn’t the only message I received that week from people I had said goodbye to. There was a note in Messenger from a person that had dumped me so many times in our 30 year relationship. The last time they dumped me they told me they didn’t want to know me and as I skimmed their message, just days after that terrible letter from Winfred, and a few days before my birthday, that is what I heard in my head: I don’t want to know you. It is true, a part of them probably loves me but another part of them really doesn’t want to know me and that is the part I am continuing to protect myself from. I deleted that message. You don’t have to be in relationships that hurt you just because you love someone. Their version of love might not be the same as yours. You have to love yourself too.

There is always a cost to saying no to someone that abuses you. But when you find people that don’t play games with you and really love you, it is easy to say no to people that don’t know how to love you. Jesus told us to give freely out of our abundance. If we are giving until it hurts we are not giving from abundance. We are not free to love. We are not loving ourselves. By loving ourselves we are filling the coffers to let love overflow. This is the natural way of loving. Jesus made time to pray and fill His coffers. We need the same thing. Finding time to talk to God and read the bible because it is the physical way we can get to know Him is the best way to get your cup to overflow. It is nice to go to church but if you have nothing to give, why go?

We are supposed to be a blessing to each other but if we are not filling our selves up, and God is the only thing that our Spirit craves, how can we bless each other. It is natural that sometimes we are going to need the support of others, but there comes a point that we must grow beyond the need of just milk but something actually to chew on and we must be able to serve each other. You don’t get this by being in need all the time. You must strengthen yourself and talking with God, just like you would with your best friend and waiting for Him to answer and reading the bible is that only way you are going to grow. Humans are not perfect and can hear things wrong. You must cultivate your own relationship with God. If this is how you ground your self-esteem you will not be unsatisfied.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

For anyone reading this that isn’t a Christian, unapologetically, I am a Christian, but I believe there is room for lots of beliefs and religions in the world. It is not my intent to offend people with different beliefs than I have and I would be open to open-minded conversations with no goals of changing anyone’s mind, but sharing information.

If you are interested in becoming a Christian…Do you know Jesus? Do want the Holy Spirit to fill you and give you understanding and salvation? Ask Him. Want someone to pray with you? Contact me.

The Monster Inside of Me

by Summer D Clemenson | Jan 4, 2024 | About Summer, Poetry

The monster inside of me doesn’t care about what I think
or feel or want to be
I was born with this and I don’t think it cares how old I am
It is part of my genealogy
I see it in ancestors and a few who have come after me

I have tried to get rid of this thing that rages
Unlike a few fractures that stayed a long time, I won’t name it
It is a thorn in my side and I have only learned to control me
not the monster that finds joy in causing pain

I used to break things to satisfy its temper
Hurting people hurt me too much
The feeling of satisfaction made me want to throw up
I learned to limit myself
to remain sober
to make rules so I am always in control

I NEVER feed the monster
I don’t watch fighting, or horror movies or the news
I don’t spent time with people that rely on savagery
I forgive often
I listen to music that makes me happy<

The meds I take help me use my tools
I make better choices
My mind works slower and more efficiently
but I never forget the monster
I have more boundaries for myself than for others

I see people who have their own monster and I pray for them
God leads me away from my danger zones
I know He can help them too
He doesn’t take the monster because it keeps me humble
It helps me remember that I am imperfect
It makes me work hard to love myself

The monster makes it easy to love those that seem unloveable
because I am just like them
Behind my abstinent face with the pleasant smile
I know what I choosing not to do
When the monster is awake
Besides praying it will go back to sleep

My Soldier & I

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 29, 2023 | About Summer, Art, Poetry, Queer Community

I didn’t move into her camp
She moved into mine
My soldier & I, together
worked hard to make it ours

Doctors & therapists were helpful
to give me a name for all
the things that make me different
I had been asking for help for so long

Medical professionals thanked her for believing me
I guess some people
don’t have a soldier like mine
But I knew that

Whether it was trying new meds
dressing wounds
changing diet & exercise
She never forgets the battle plan

I didn’t leave you because I am queer
I left because I begged for no judgement
& I needed love & peace & compassion
& I finally have it

I have everything I want right here

An Important Letter

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 27, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

I wrote a letter to my biological father and his 2nd wife this week. It took me about 3 days to get every thing written down that I had been holding against them for the last 40 years and answer any question or accusation they made against me in the letter they sent to me on 12/22/2023. It is a terrible letter. It is an important letter.

I sent a copy to my sister, Jamie Holloway, and to my aunt. I had originally planned to send it to his work. Jamie asked me if I was sending it to his boss because I had written the address I was mailing to as his work address and wrote in 3rd person. I told her, no, I just was mailing it there. I wanted him to see it before his 2nd wife. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to humiliate him but I didn’t want to cause a problem with his work. I just didn’t know another way to get it to him without his 2nd wife having the chance to edit it or hide it from him. I have no to reason to trust her at all.

I was reeling and writhing in pain and made a post about it on Facebook. Luckily this gave a wonderful lady the opportunity to remind me why I am referring to him as my biological father or by his first name (not here); because Jesus is my real Father. Jesus wants me to forgive and give Him my pain.

My bio dad wants an apology for what he says are lies…basically he is embarrassed that family members believe my posts. I can’t help him with that. He should have thought more about his actions. I am not a liar. His lies hurt me so much, growing up, that I abhor lying and I am honest to a fault or I am silent…well I am not so silent anymore because that is not good mental health.

I have decided that he doesn’t deserve the letter. It won’t do what I want it to do. He won’t read it and say: Oh wow! I have really done terrible things to my family, I need to repent and do better. He won’t care about me any more than he ever has. He will become defensive and even more angry. In fact the letter will be exactly what he wants me to do, the reason to engage in fighting, which I don’t want to do.

So why is the letter important? Because although I have tried many times to forgive, these things are still hurting me and they replay in my mind, probably because I have OCD and PTSD and these memories and feelings become new when triggered. He might not believe in mental illness, but I don’t have that luxury. Maybe I just haven’t gone deep enough because sin against your family causes layers of things to be forgiven. But that letter is a tool. I need this letter because I can sit with my real Father and work on forgiving with a list in my hand, not because it will help my family but it will set me free.

I can’t save them. I tried. I only have control over me and I have chosen me. That is the gift of free will; it only works on yourself.

Photo Credit: Mailbox PNGs by Vecteezy

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

Grandparents Understand

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 27, 2023 | About Summer, Art, Poetry

Nana told me grandparents understand
I had told her I was sad
I had learned late
it was my responsibility to make time
for Grandma Clem

I was baking banana bread
when she came to me
My heart felt warm
and I knew Grandma Clem
was here

She told me she knew her son
She knew what he did
It was ok I hadn’t come
to her funeral
Grandparents understand

No More Letters

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 23, 2023 | About Summer, Art, Poetry

I have been the daughter of a fool
For so long I wanted you
to remember you loved me
to choose me one time

Back when we built things together
and grew things in the dirt
and danced to Thriller and Three Dog Night
Before you dishonored our home
Before you left
Before you broke all your promises
I knew you loved me

When she announced the nuptials
we weren’t invited to
she told me you two were
more important than the rest of us
and you have proven it true many times

The letter you sent me for my birthday
implies you think I want you back
Let me be clear
I am not safe with you and her
I have know this for a long time
And unlike you
I am not a fool

The Birthday Card I Didn’t Want

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 22, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

Today I went to get a package I was expecting and was shocked to get the birthday card I didn’t want. I must have looked as terrible as I felt because Lorie asked if I was ok. I stuttered as I answered her. I can’t say I wasn’t surprised by what was in that purple envelope. I hoped for better but I am always left wanting more. It brought up a lot of memories and emotions.

In February of 2014 I was hospitalized for cellulitis that took over my left leg. From my foot to the top of my thigh it looked like my leg had been dipped in boiling barbecue sauce and swollen to a huge size. Before this I had been fervently going to therapy at a pastor’s home and working on issues I had had all my life and had moved a lot of superficial issues out of the way. This trip to the hospital was big for me. I had never had anyone help me before. I had never been able to trust anyone with myself before.

The week before I went to the hospital, I had a bad flu, following a 24 hour telethon, put on by my nonprofit. I was exhausted and the flu had caused this rash I had been nursing for years to go crazy. I didn’t have health insurance and I had been afraid to go to the doctor. A few days before I went to the hospital my family called the police because I wouldn’t go to the local hospital. They thought I was suicidal. They didn’t know anything about the process they were trying to put me into, that I wouldn’t get medical attention and that I wasn’t suicidal. Police and paramedics showed up to arrest me. I kept my head straight and proved I was not crazy or suicidal and had plans to go to Legacy Salmon Creek on a particular day. The paramedic agreed when they saw that I was trying to eat plain yogurt and broccoli, that was trying to do well by myself. He checked my vitals and agreed I was ok but that my leg was obviously sick and I better do what I promised or they would have to take me in against my will.

This over the top response of my family was out of the ordinary since they usually ignored me but I was used to their attempt at controlling me. My best friend and business partner had shown up. She had experience with people in mental distress and she was quietly explaining what would happen to me if I went with the first responders and they looked remorseful. They just wanted me to get medical attention.

The night before I let Karen G Clemenson take me to the hospital I decided to trust her with every secret I had ever kept about my body because I had no one that I trusted. This trip to the hospital was the hardest and scariest thing I had ever done until this point of my life. While I was in the hospital I had to let people help me. I wasn’t used to that. I wasn’t used to people not being disgusted with my body. I wasn’t used to not having everything blamed on my weight. I was so sick that I don’t remember most of what happened in the 4 days I was there, although I do remember them being shocked that I refused the commode and would drag my sick leg to the toilet, once Karen, who never left my side, helped me get my leg out of bed to go to the bathroom. I even showered daily until the nurses found out and let me know that with my open wounds that wasn’t ok. Because I was so active, I went home 4 days earlier than most people with my same infection.

But something else happened to me during this time of being really sick and needing Karen’s help; I had deep wounds at the top and bottom of my leg that I couldn’t dress and she was the only one that was willing to help me. Something in me broke. The thing that let me think that the way my family treated me was normal. When I got out of the hospital I had to continue to follow up with doctors and get a primary. This was when I started to learn of diagnosis that I had had for a long time, some of them probably most of my life. As the diagnosis piled up I had less and less to give to anyone and I could no longer ignore the mental illness that was plaguing me.

My business partner and best friend had become my wife and I noticed that she flinched and over reacted sometimes. After I had seen any of my family members, besides my nieces and nephews, I would dissociate and often become so depressed that I would forget to eat or take my meds and most of the time, barely got out of bed for days. A phone call could send me over the edge. I realized I needed help. I was being an abuser and I was not taking care of myself.

It took over a year to find the right meds for my mental health. It took longer to find all my diagnosis and the correct amounts of medications. I promised to always take my medications because I know when I don’t, I can become mentally abusive to Karen and she doesn’t deserve that and neither do I.

I have tried to share my diagnosis with my family. They include:

Fibromyalgia
Psoriatic Arthritis
Osteoarthritis
Lymphedema
Hiatal Hernia
Gastrointestinal Reflux Disease
Diabetes
Chronic Migraine (I have scars on my brain that prove I had this since I was a child)
Trigeminal Neuralgia
Endometrial Cancer
Generalized Anxiety Disorder
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
Major Depressive Disorder

My many therapist over the past 9 years have agreed I am an Emotional Neglect and Emotional Abuse Survivor and they all agreed that I needed to separate from my parents. I had hoped it could be temporary but I don’t think that is the case.

There are a lot of reasons that holidays and special occasions are hard for me and I don’t feel the need to go into detail anymore. With the death of both Nana and Grandpa this year, I feel like I need to live up to the standard they set for me. I know that I have thrown a few tantrums as I healed over the years. I needed to get out my feelings and I chose to use my blog to do that. Not really because I wanted to hurt my abusers but because I know that other people can benefit from my process. With the help of medication and therapy I have healed a lot in my brain and in my heart. I have abilities I haven’t had before and although I have the right to write and talk about my life, I don’t need to by immature about it, especially if I am aware of it so my writing has and will continue to change. This is as close to an apology as I am going to come to for what I have written in the past. I am not sorry for sharing what other people did to me.

Learning to live with all these diagnosis, that all but one will be with me for the rest of my life, has been very challenging. Mentally and physically. Sometimes it was near impossible. I lost parts of me. Some I got back and others I decided I didn’t want back. I am not a petty person, a materialistic person or even a person that likes casual things. Never during any of the years that I was suffering and learning how to live with this body that will never get better, did anyone in my family ever ask me if I needed any help or ask me why I did things the way I did. If I didn’t measure up, there was no compassion. Probably because there was no real relationship.

My wife and I have worked hard to live without the help of family (except for a few and they know who they are 🙂 ). To build our credit ratings. To build the life we want and we have made great strides. We needed this time to learn how strong we are. I am proud of us. I don’t need the validation of people that want to judge us.

Last year I mailed back the birthday check a family member sent me. I had called them to tell them about my cancer and they brought up history that, in my mind was none of their business. I did ask them to let me go. I just don’t think we can salvage anything between us. This year I got another card and a check plus a letter telling me I owe them an apology for my blog entries. I won’t be mailing the check back. I won’t spend it either. I still don’t want their money or things. I only want what I ever wanted. I wanted them to want to know me. I wanted them to hear me, see me and want to be part of my life without all the drama.

They broke every promise they ever made to me and I forgive them every time I think about it but PTSD is a bear. Pain is brand new again and again. I am sorry that they missed out on a relationship with me. I am an amazing person.

I have struggled a lot this year. The traditions I enjoy are not available to me as we still live in a hotel. With Grandpa dying only a week ago I am still reeling a bit. This is the first Christmas that is really without Nana and Grandpa… Plus I never use the address here. I have always put our business address on our letters. since this birthday card I received today was addressed to this hotel, it scared me. As a person with Generalized Anxiety Disorder, I don’t need a trigger to become anxious, but seeing that address on a card addressed to me and with their name on it, felt like being kicked in the stomach. I felt like someone was spying on me. I felt unprotected. I felt violated.

I won’t be opening any mail from them anymore. I don’t have to let them abuse me anymore. I don’t want to be talked about anymore. I don’t want a relationship with their spouse who is abusive in their own way. I am done. I don’t take this lightly but I have to protect myself.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

Nana Really Liked Him

by Summer D Clemenson | Dec 19, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions

I think I met him when I was about 4 years old. He was a stylish man with black curly hair and my nana really liked him. He had a pretty smile. He was quick on his feet and he liked to play with us. I remember that quiet look of shock as I went through many stages, trying on new personas and mannerisms. I was an awkward kid that was not made for sports or even the great outdoors beyond walking on solid ground but that didn’t stop him from trying to encourage me or walking home with me covered in mud after I failed, without complaint.

“Bill” married Nana when I was about 5 1/2 years old, right about the time that my youngest sibling was born. They were married in Hawaii. Their pictures showed two beautiful people in love. They went there every year. It was their favorite place to visit, full of history and charm, which was perfect for both of them. After they were married, Nana told me I could call him Grandpa Bill. I was very concerned because I had a lot of grandpas, since I still had great-grandfathers alive and I wanted to be able to give him his own name.

When my parent’s marriage failed, Grandpa Bill became the person that came regularly to make sure that heaters and sinks worked. He made sure our house would not be lost to the bank. My grandparents helped to make sure we had what we needed to stay afloat. They would come for games, dance recitals and I would go to stay with them for a week in the summer. That was my favorite. About this time Nana told me I should just call Grandpa Bill, Grandpa. I think she thought he had earned the right to be just Grandpa, I don’t think she understood that it was special to me that he was the only grandpa that I called by his first name, but I could tell it was important to her so I tried hard to stop using his first name, but when I talked about him, I still called him Grandpa Bill, because I still had a lot of grandpas.

Grandpa was raised in Spokane, his parents were a doctor and nurse. He graduated from the University of Washington. He had served in the military, but he never wanted to talk about it, other than to let me know that the only other place, beside Longview that he had experienced rain and sun at the same time was while he was serving in Japan, so I don’t remember what branch he served in. Grandpa was an accountant. He was very intelligent and details were never wasted on him. He loved to read. Every day he read a stack of newspapers, watched the news and would also have a book he was reading. He wore coveralls when he worked and meticulously cleaned his tools after he used them. He was a bit of hoarder, but everything was tidy and had its place. He owned luggage for nearly every other decade but when he went on short stays he preferred to use a shopping bag with handles. Grandpa always thought before he spoke and did not waste words. The last time I saw him, he was having his knee replaced and his pajamas were a little worn. He liked proper pajamas with a button down top and long sleeves and matching bottoms. This was not an easy thing to find, even in Kirkland, but two shopping trips later and we finally found them in JC Penney. Thank God!

Grandpa had been married before he married Nana. He had a son and two daughters and together, he and Nana had 5 children and eventually 9 grandchildren and even more great-grandchildren.

Although this was my grandparent’s second marriage, there was nothing second place about the way that Grandpa loved his family. He didn’t have to love me but we all got 1st rate love and care from him. He was the grandpa that showed up, taught me things and listened, heard and knew me. I think that is why I appreciate his quirks because that is why he didn’t question mine.

I found out my grandpa is in Hospice on Friday December 15, 2023. Not from anyone on his side of my family but from my aunt on the other side of my family that knows that I don’t have contact with them. The next day I got an email from my mother that said that Grandpa had gone to heaven yesterday on his 92nd birthday. I know my grandpa really missed Nana. I know he was probably really suffering and I know he knows Jesus. I didn’t want him to suffer. I wanted him to be home and be in the love of Jesus.

But I also felt so angry. I wanted to do unladylike things. But Grandpa would never want me to do that. Nana worked hard to instill good manners in me. So I prayed and talking to God about my feelings and prayed for my mother who probably feels like an orphan now that both her parents are gone. He was the last of my grandparents to go to heaven for me too.

I always wanted to be seen and heard. I wanted people to ask me questions. That is what I liked about my grandparents. I could have conversations with them about real topics. Nana couldn’t go too deep but Grandpa could. Nana and Grandpa were an exceptional couple; classy, hard-working, educated and well-spoken. They weren’t perfect but they tried hard to be good to everyone and make room for everyone. I hear their voices giving advice in my head all the time. I don’t have time to miss them because they are always with me. If I could say one thing to them it would be: Thank you for seeing and hearing me…not everyone knows how to do that.

As I sit here, I am thankful that I had such amazing grandparents. They still influence me. I don’t care for fads and I dress like my nana in very classic styles. I love a good cup of coffee, not Starbucks, like Nana, but Guse’s or Red Leaf. I love to read, like both my grandparents and although I am not a Republican, they probably have a hand in why I am not a Democrat either. I will never forget talking to them about Trump, when he ran the first time. Nana could not vote for him because of his hair, and Grandpa and I both thought it was a joke and that he would never win…I guess the joke was on us. Grandpa rarely said a bad word about anyone. I am a bit more passionate, like Nana, but more and more, I find my tongue being held and words that sound like his coming out. I like that.

Note: Grandpa was the family photographer. There are very few pictures of him because he didn’t like to be in front of the camera. Thankfully, Karen insisted on taking this picture one day…

Feel free to leave your comments below!

My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.

I Am the One that is Supposed to be Sick

by Summer D Clemenson | Nov 28, 2023 | About Summer, Cancer, Life, Opinions, Prayers

On November 12th she started really hurting. Karen G Clemenson gets aches and pains just like anyone but not like this. She rarely gets more than a runny nose and a slight headache. She is proud of her strength and health. She likes being strong, it is part of her personal identity, that and her ability to work hard every day. She does it at work and at home. But on this day she has had to lay low. Really low. I can’t tell you how many times she apologized for being sick. I am the one that is supposed to be sick. She doesn’t get sick. It has been over 10 years since her teeth went bad, since I have seen her in this much pain. She didn’t even want to eat and Karen doesn’t turn away meals.

By Tuesday went to the ER. Her pain in her lower right quadrant was so bad she was having trouble walking. Although she drove, she couldn’t walk into the ER. I was caught by a nurse trying to procure a wheel chair. Thankfully he took over until we got to the door. We spent 7 hours there that day. They did every test and culture, except the ultra sound because she was also having stenosis of her cervix. After all that they sent her home with instructions to use Tylenol for pain. They couldn’t find any infection or reason to keep her there and we had to wait for the cultures to come back.

The next day she went to her regular clinic and took the notes from the hospital. They didn’t do any more tests because they could see that the hospital had been thorough. They gave her some muscle relaxers, pain meds and a one dose antibiotic, just in case.

Yesterday, after watching her struggle for many days and watching to see if her test results were loaded into her PeaceHealth portal without success, I called the ER to see what the hold up was. They let me know that her cultures came back normal and that she should come back to try that ultrasound again. I was afraid of the bill associated with the hospital so I called her clinic; Karen is between insurance companies. They told me to call an advice nurse because they could not advise me to come in or not. The advice nurse, after finding out that Karen’s pain had been at a 6 for several hours, said they wanted her to be seen by somebody in the next 4 hours. So I called the clinic back and left a message. Then I began to get ready for the day. They did not call me back so when we were ready to leave we went back to the hospital.

This time, Karen had success with the test and we found out she has fibroid tumors on her right ovary. The doctor seemed more upset to tell us than we were to hear it. I think I was in shock. Honestly I don’t know how Karen feels about it but she did thank me for making her come back to the hospital. I told her pain like this is not to ignore. If we waited and it became worse and she died, that was not how I planned to spend my future.

This last week I have been surprised how my body has let me do a lot of things. I am the chronically ill one. My body doesn’t handle stress well. I have been doing my chores and Karen’s. I have been helping Karen get up, walk and get into bed. I have also been doing financials and filling out charity care paperwork to get help with the hospital bill. I have found that the hospital is a perfect place to read since I have devoured almost 2 books while sitting there. I have had to adjust to the stress of our needy cat too. I didn’t start to fall apart until last night.

I had put a turkey in the crockpot before we left for the hospital so we had something to eat when we got home. When we got done with turkey and green beans and a treat of pumpkin custard with chocolate ganache on top. I had no energy left. I had to have a nap. So I set an alarm and got up at 10:45 pm to take care of the rest of the turkey. That is not a small job; pulling all the meat off the bones, setting aside the innards for Karen and separating the drippings for a stew. I needed some me time so I did a bible study and then read some more. This book I am reading is really great; it is also a good distraction.

I was chewing on the idea that it might be cancer.

I didn’t sleep well. Fibromyalgia is not nice. She causes a terrible kind of pain that nothing really helps take the sting out of and my body temp fluctuates a lot. Emotions trigger her…I am also breaking out with a new psoriasis spot.

Sometime in the early hours my sister, Jamie Holloway, sent me a message about Karen. She is worried. Because I wanted Jamie to be at rest, I googled fibroid tumors and found that they are not cancerous and don’t increase the chance of cancer but they are super painful and will probably require a surgery. But they aren’t cancer. I passed this onto Jamie. Sometimes Jamie sends me the perfect message the right time. Although I am still stressed out. This has been an expensive week and Karen has missed a lot of work and we rely on her working so heavily. I am a little relieved to know that it probably isn’t cancer and as I passed onto Jamie, Karen’s ovary is not twisted and there didn’t appear to be any other anomalies.

God must be flexing his muscles right now because the bible says when I am weak He is strong…I am about on my face.

Karen will find out soon the next step with the gynecologist. We know God has us.

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My name is Summer. That is how you can call me. I hope that I am a blessing to you. I am not perfect. I will fall again. But I am forgiven.