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.

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.

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.

Feel free to leave your comments below!

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.

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.

Letting Things Go

by Summer D Clemenson | Nov 21, 2023 | About Summer, Yarn

I have been purging and letting things go that I don’t want to take care of anymore. After the loss of the second storage unit Karen and I have had together, I have learned that letting things go is a good thing. Some things we lost were valuable, even priceless maybe, but they are just things. Things can be acquired. What is important is relationships and time.

So as it has become time to renew domains, I am realizing that I no longer need KnottyWares.com. All my crochet items listed on the site, marketing gear and even most of my crochet hooks and bobbles were lost in the last storage unit and really I have never sold anything off the site. I sold a few custom items but usually I donated most of the items I made to other nonprofits. I have new crochet hooks and now I occasionally make things for my grand-nephews.

I have slowly changed my email over to summer at goodtimesalways.com because I would rather advertise my blog so even my doctor’s offices know this new address and the only emails I get at my old KW’s address are advertisements. I hate advertisements. So if you want to email me you can remember this email address or go over to the Contact page and send me an email through the form.

I deleted the Knotty Wares Facebook Page on Friday. I thought I would be more emotional about it. I had put so much time and devotion into this campaign; hours were spent on the logo itself. But it was really easy. This tells me that I am truly done with Knotty Wares, which was really started, hoping to have something fun with a friend that really never wanted to do this with me in the first place and eventually we let the friendship go too. That reminds me…I still need to take down Twitter and Etsy. I really tried but I wasn’t successful. I guess I was just meant to give these gifts out of love.

So this translates throughout life as well. We learn what we don’t need to carry around anymore and what is important to hold onto.

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.

A Perfect Time for Growth and Reflection

by Summer D Clemenson | Nov 17, 2023 | About Summer, Chronic Illness, Life, Opinions, Thanksgiving

I have been sick for about 3 weeks now which is a perfect time for growth and reflection. The first 4 days I am sure it was the flu but it changed and now I am thinking it is either a Fibromyalgia flare or maybe a reaction to the increase in Mounjaro. Being in a chronic body is exhausting. During those 4 days when I know it was the flu I had a dream of teachers I had in middle school and high school. Specific teachers that took a greater interest in me. They would spend more time with me, give me special treatment and tasks. In the dream I knew they knew, home was not always safe. They were waiting for me tell them that I needed help. My high school math teacher blatantly asked me once. My high school German teacher once told me it was wrong that I missed school when my siblings were sick. But I chose to keep the secrets.

I chose to protect the secrets so that my siblings would be safe. I didn’t know what would happen if I told the truth that no one said hello to me but yelled at me for whatever they thought I did wrong, or my siblings did wrong. I was called names. Every ache and pain I had was because I was fat. When my custodial parent, who did not have health insurance and no way to get help with their mental health issue, was having a hard time, I was pulled out of bed or away from my homework at any time of the night to help them. My parent had no one else. I am not mad at them. Sometimes I was asked to do ridiculous things, nothing blatantly abusive but not necessarily normal either. I was not hit. I was not molested but I was not emotionally supported and sometimes I didn’t have what I needed. My other parent would scream at me over the phone or for the entire 4 hour drive to their house about how much they hated their ex-spouse and then tell me not to say anything when we got to their house; then I was given a hard time when I was depressed during our visit.

There are more details but this is enough. After I woke up from that dream, it occurred to me for the first time that there had been people that wanted to help me. I had never really thought about that before. It really made me feel good. I chose to stay quiet and that was my choice. I chose to keep what stability I could for my siblings. They were told I was so much older and bigger than they were. They were taught to treat me badly. Not on purpose but by example. But in reality I was taller than they were. I took after one part of our family, and they took after another. But I was also only 3 1/2 years older than my younger sibling and 5 1/2 years older than my youngest sibling. I wasn’t that much older then they were. I was angry and depressed and I had chronic conditions that there probably were words for in the 80’s and I should never have been their caregiver. They got the worst of me, even though I loved them and wanted to protect them. I was angry that I had to protect them. I was angry that they would abuse me and didn’t have the responsibilities I had and never had consequences. I was angry that they got to be children and I didn’t.

Back in March I wrote in an article Memories Are Bigger Than the Thing We are Responding To that I hated my father’s wife. It is amazing what confession can do. When God says that when we are honest we can let the light in so He can heal us, He is describing repentance. He knows that I don’t want to hate anyone. He also knows that I have tried to love this person and there are shreds of love in my heart for this person. But I needed to be honest about a few things so He could shine His light on the darkness. So I could hear myself and give Him the stuff I don’t need to hold onto. I have done this on so many things and forgiveness is very freeing. It isn’t even about the other person. It is all about me being able to clear out the mess and make new decisions. I can say I don’t hate my father’s wife anymore. I don’t trust her. I don’t want her in my life. I get to make those decisions. But I don’t want bad things for her. I don’t hold hatred for her anymore. I can look at a picture of her and not want to throw it and I can have a memory and not feel evil or negative thoughts. She is actually attached to some very good memories and those I can hold onto and appreciate now.

I have had a lot of other dreams this month about memories with my extended family that are no longer in my life. I mentioned it to my wife, Karen G Clemenson. She is used to this. We have been married for over 9 years now and she has seen a lot. She quietly reminded me that our bodies remember things. I suddenly remembered that my custodial parent’s birthday was almost a month ago. This triggered their hard time of the year. Mid-October to February is always hard for them…so it is hard on me. Lot of memories and stressful times make the holidays difficult for me. The difference this time is that I seem to be watching from afar. I am not really part of the memories this time, but analyzing the memories. My therapist says this is a good change.

Because I have tried hard to find balance and positivity in my life where possible it is natural for me to think differently than I used to. I am thankful for this. I will always have OCD but I can change how I let myself think by making sure I have something meaningful to do everyday. I read something every day so I can control what I am thinking about. I listen to music that makes me feel happy. I try hard to keep the thoughts in my head constructive and useful. This has also helped me to stop and think about something else. My parents didn’t completely fail me. My parents were not perfect and they had their own scars and traumas but they tried hard to give me things they didn’t have. My custodial parent moved a lot as a child and lived in big cities. But I lived in one home from the time I was 3 until I was 17 years old in a smaller city that was easier to raise children in and when we did move I got to stay in the same school. Although my other parent left when I was 9, they gave me good memories before then that helped me through the years to follow. My parents worked hard to give me things they didn’t have growing up. My siblings and I did have things that some of our friends didn’t have. Although I was emotionally neglected, I always had books to read and music to listen to because they could buy those things for me and they knew I loved those things. My parents weren’t always absent. I have good memories of great days. They tried and they loved us as best they could.

They are human. Just like me.

I was accused by one of my nieces that I was ruining myself by writing about my past. I appreciate her 20-something viewpoint. Meaning she hasn’t lived enough to know what I know and she is probably repeating what she has been taught, which I also appreciate.

I tried to make the break from my parents, which I never intended to be from the entire extended family, be temporary. But my siblings followed suit. I was so shocked. Their actions showed me how deep that unhealthiness went in our family. If they knew what I went through to make that initial choice, they would have never left me. But no one has ever asked me why. No one. Everyone just assumed I hated them and I was evil. The last time I came around it was because another niece asked me to and although I did something that was wrong, it was blown completely out of proportion and still no one has ever asked me why. I know that my younger siblings got the worst of me, growing up but I am not that person anymore. I have worked hard to grow up, learn healthy communication and how to make healthy boundaries so that others see a mentally healthy Summer and not the broken one I was for so long. When it comes down to it I can’t make people forgive me or offer me a clean slate; I can’t make anyone choose good mental health. I can choose who I allow into my life. I know that it may very well be that I trigger the same survival mode in my family that they trigger in me. So I will love them in my prayers and leave the rest in God’s hands because He loves them more than I ever could.

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 Can Only Control Me and Where I Choose to Be

by Summer D Clemenson | Oct 31, 2023 | About Summer, Cancer, Life, Opinions, Queer Community

I have been feeling very vulnerable. It started yesterday. When there was an incident on Facebook between extended family members that went wrong. I thought I had removed everyone attached to people that knew someone that I need to stay separate from. But I was left feeling very unprotected by someone I don’t know, in a situation I wish I had stayed out of. So after praying and thinking about it, obsessively, because that is what people with OCD do…and then talking to a cousin that is discreet and compassionate, I decided to unfriend and block a couple more people in order to protect my peace that I have fought so diligently for. I can only control me and where I choose to be.

But this is not the best way to protect yourself and not the way that normal, mentally healthy people protect themselves from life’s normal stressors. This month has been quieter than August and September which had me at doctor appointments every week, sometimes 2 in one week and left me feeling like a pin cushion and over stimulated by people touching me and giving me all kinds of advice. But I did get a haircut which does make you feel like you did something just for you. I had a doTERRA class online, which enriches your brain. I went to the dentist for the first time in 4 years. I had my first mammogram. I also did one of those at home colon cancer tests and blood screening tests too. I met with my psychiatric RN. I also spent a lot of time going through all of our things and throwing away un-useful things and setting aside things we don’t need for The Red Hat. All while praying for my uncle that had a hip replacement and my aunt that had a much needed breast reduction; they are doing very well.

I really enjoyed my experience with my new stylist. Her name is Taylor Daines and she works at Wild Aces Salon in Kelso, Washington. She is a transplant from Las Vegas. I heard of her in the Longview Rainbow Group on Facebook. Someone posted a picture of their hair and a review and I thought I would give her a shot since the last person that cut my hair didn’t return my messages. Taylor is very sweet and the shop is very eclectic. She prefers to just cut hair, but she can color as well. If you want to make an appointment find Taylor Daines online. Did I mention she also keeps her own bees?

I have no really good reason for missing my teeth cleanings for 4 years. I just don’t like going to the dentist. I made a huge mistake and I am going to pay for it. I have insurance coverage but it only covers cleanings and X-rays. The last dentist I saw told me my impacted wisdom teeth were not a problem but that wasn’t true then and it isn’t true, especially now. After Karen G Clemenson gets her insurance figured out and it is my secondary insurance I will be able to get my 2 impacted wisdom teeth removed, plus one molar that was ruined by one of the wisdom teeth and then have a filling in another tooth that has a cavity from pressure from the other wisdom tooth and then one more filling I earned on my own. All in all, I need 3 teeth removed and 2 filings. At first I had a vanity moment, but then I thought about it. My wisdom teeth are impacted and I have never used them. The one molar is on my left side where I have trigeminal neuralgia and I don’t chew on that side of my mouth as it is, so I guess it works out ok for me. The dentist said that my mouth is too small for implants so that isn’t even an option (you have to have enough room for the implant and the drill at the same time and I don’t). Overall in 47 years to have only 3 cavities, and 1 is from a tooth I can’t clean. I think that is a pretty good history. The hygienist did say that I do a really good job cleaning my teeth. She was really surprised with how little buildup there was after 4 years of not having my teeth cleaned…Yes I have my next cleaning already scheduled.

I have fought against a mammogram for several years. I hate being touched my strangers. I have issues with being naked in front of people. Mammograms do not sound fun or pain free. My breasts have not changed ever…I ran out of excuses and finally sucked it up last week. The Kearney Breast Center at PeaceHealth St. John Medical Center is probably the most pleasant place you can go for a mammogram. I have been to most of the departments there and this one is about comfort. The walls are painted in a pleasant magenta and are covered in beautiful art prints. The furniture is comfortable. The dressing rooms are roomy and pleasant. The lighting is calming. The music is soothing. The staff is soft spoken, professional, patient and gentle. My only complaint is that when you have chronic pain in your rib cage, leaning into the hard plastic machines is very painful. Also my sister, Jamie Holloway, who was given much larger breasts than I was, said it was not painful. My answer to her is that when you have small breasts, they have to stretch them…I will let your imagination answer what I think about that. The upside…I don’t have breast cancer. Thank You Jesus!

My primary has been trying to get me to do the colon cancer screening for 2 years. She finally said I had two choices: colonoscopy or the take home test. So I gave in. Both sound disgusting to me but the latter sounds less painful. The take home test was mailed to me and included a blood test but I wasn’t sure what was for. I made it through the process. In a week I got a letter back that I don’t have color cancer and my A1c is 7.11%. I am thankful that I don’t have colon cancer. I am also thankful that my A1c is down. The last time my primary checked it, it was 7.25% so the changes I am working on, are making a difference. Thank You Jesus!

I met with my Psychiatric RN yesterday. We were supposed to meet a couple of weeks ago but he got sick and we had to reschedule. A few weeks ago I was going to ask him to increase my meds. I was going through a terrible time dealing with a huge loss and it was wreaking havoc on my ability to manage my life. But I have accepted the loss of those things and made it through. When I told him that he suggested that we can try some anti-anxiety meds that I can have with me for trouble times that happen. I would only take these pills during extreme times. I want to think about this. I already take a lot of meds. Also Karen found a file that has medical information in it from the beginning. It may have the list of meds that we tried in the beginning that made me suicidal. I don’t remember the names of the meds so this list is important. I would like to have time to go through this file and be able to share this information with my Psychiatric RN so that we don’t end up taking a step backwards. We will be meeting that last week of December. We have paid the $7500 for the year that my insurance requires so my meds are less expensive now so we can get a lower price to start out too.

Cleaning out unnecessary things is a good way to make room for change. It is also a good way to find things you have lost. We have found so many important things in this room and even in the car…Karen has been going through the car and found so many useful things out there too! But we have also found things we don’t need to keep anymore. It is good to get rid of the things that don’t fit anymore or you aren’t using anymore or don’t mean anything to you like they once did. It helps to clear the air. It also makes room for creativity which is always my goal.

Later this week I will be going to Vancouver to have an MRI on my abdomen to see if the endometrial cancer in my uterus has grown. So far it has not, that we know of. My doctor is hoping to have me lose as much weight as possible before my hysterectomy so if the cancer has not spread we will probably wait until the New Year for my surgery. I do feel as though I have lost weight. My clothes are fitting differently and I feel like my shape is changing. I haven’t had a chance to weigh in for a month or so. I am sure they will weigh me before the MRI so maybe I will know more then. I have an appointment with my primary in mid November but she may be able to get me in sooner, if there is a cancellation. I think the Mounjaro is helping and we will probably increase the dose when I see my primary.

I can’t control what other people are going to do, but I can control me and I control my surroundings. This is what mentally healthy people do. Not everyone has to disconnect from their extended families but I did. I knew when I got cancer, I had to choose me. It was a very hard choice. I tried a trial run but when I tried to re-engage it didn’t work. I can’t make anyone forgive me and give me a clean slate. I can’t make anyone choose good mental health. I can’t make anyone love me the way I want to be loved. But I can love myself and I can celebrate healthy relationships as they come. I can also let unhealthy ones go as necessary.

So if this encourages you to get your health screenings, remove drama that is hurting you and make healthy boundaries and celebrate the successes in your life than I have been a success! Be blessed.

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 Got Caught Pleasuring Myself [SPAM]

by Summer D Clemenson | Oct 2, 2023 | About Summer, Art, Education, Life, Marketing, Opinions

Sometimes you have to laugh at yourself! This weekend I got an email from a spammer. They claimed that they infected my computer with a private trojan, remote administration tool that allows them to access my accounts, my camera and microphone. They also told me I enjoy checking out porn sites having kinky fun and they recorded me through my own camera: I got caught pleasuring myself. Actually, by Monday, I had got 4 emails.

I am really good at avoiding spam because I am very mindful about my computer use, maybe because I have OCD and I have to do things a certain way. Maybe I don’t freak out because when I worked for 3 years doing customer service and website design the one thing I learned the most, was that staying calm was paramount to solving a problem; getting upset only makes it harder to think.

My bank knows when I am not shopping because I only shop and pay certain ways and they call me if anything is different from my usual use. I have a sticky note over my camera unless I am Facetiming or Zooming with my sister, Jamie Holloway, or therapist or doctors. I only use my computer when I am home alone because I value family time so if someone has my microphone hacked they will hear me talking to my cat or whatever music I am playing…And I am a queen who loves her wife and is bored to tears with porn. When you have chronic pain a computer chair and laptop is far from sexy. So if my velvety soft, gingerbread queen is not with me, I am not interested…

But maybe they did catch me the other day…talk about pleasuring myself, I bought Karen G Clemenson two new pairs of jeans for work so I can go a couple more days between having to do laundry!

By the way, if you have emails like that just delete them and empty your trash bin so they are not sitting on your computer. You might want to change your email password as an extra precaution. Don’t ever click on any links in the email!

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.

You Can’t Fix Me

by Summer D Clemenson | Sep 27, 2023 | About Summer, Cancer, Life, Opinions, Prayers, Wellness

I have been depressed for at least a month. This is a big depression. I have lived with bouts of depression for as long as I can remember. Anxiety too. You can’t fix me. I can’t fix me. I think this is the spur in my saddle because God has chosen to not heal me. But He has not left me alone or unprotected, even though my brain lies to me and tries to get me to believe that I am alone, and that I will never see my dreams fulfilled, and that sometimes I am better off dead.

As a chronically ill person I have a lot of diagnosis’ and I have a lot of things I do every day to help me have a life as healthy as possible. I often pray throughout the night, since my body temperature and pain levels fluctuate making it hard to sleep, not to mention the nightmares or stressful dreams. But I also pray before I get out of bed. I also have a workout that focuses on my core and hips before I get out of bed or walking is very hard. I used to have a personal hygiene self care list because when you are depressed, it can be hard to floss your teeth, but I have finally got the habit of my personal care leading up to dressing set. I take a lot of meds; 15 prescriptions to be exact. I have three batches of meds I take daily: morning, mid-day and evening; I also have an injectable I take on Saturday evening. I have timers set to remind me. The second set of meds revolve around meals. Most days I take a walk and also have an afternoon workout. All my workouts are about 10-15 minutes long because when you have chronic pain you can’t go too long or you might not function well the next day. I have a bible study time. I have reading times. I have daily chores to keep my home clean. I must clean something every day because I can’t do big cleaning days. I have so many food sensitivities that I cook most of my food from scratch. I have to order some of my food online because I can’t find some items in Longview. It is a lot of work to be me.

My Medical Conditions Are:

Generalized Anxiety Disorder
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
Panic Disorder
Major Depressive Disorder
Fibromyalgia
Psoriatic Arthritis
Osteoarthritis
Lymphedema
Hiatal Hernia
Gastrointestinal Reflux Disease
Diabetes
Chronic Migraine
Endometrial Cancer
Morbid Obesity

I see a Psychiatric RN to help me manage my mood stabilizers and a Therapist to help me with my thoughts and mental wellness plan. I see a Neurologist to help me with my migraines. I see a Rheumatologist to help me with my arthritis and fibromyalgia issues, however nobody usually has many answers for fibro. I control my GERD through diet since the meds for GERD cause cancer. I see Gynecological Oncologist for my endometrial cancer. I also see my Primary for everything else. Since August I have seen them all and even had several consults with other specialists for several other things. This is the first week I have not had one or two appointments and had to offer my arms up for blood tests. I am sure this is part of my depression. I am exhausted.

I have also had several big losses since May.

I am also facing some big things. The cancer meds cause weight gain. The hysterectomy I am facing is very dangerous at my size. I am having a very hard time getting weight off. The idea of having my girl parts removing is hard to face on its own, but the fact I could die or not be able to handle the laparoscopic surgery and will awake to being cut open from stem to stern really scares me not only for vanity reasons but the pain and agony of the healing process and the chance of complications and infection really causes me to lose my breath sometimes.

Yesterday was a terrible day. I struggled to do anything. I struggled but I did do my morning workout and prayer and get dressed. i did take my meds. I did take a walk. I did put laundry away and made dinner. I posted a request for prayer and so many replied that they would pray and that helped so much!

One woman replied with a laundry list and it really pissed me off. I know she doesn’t know me. I don’t think she knows what real depression is. If she did she would know that when you are low enough to post on a social networking site for help, the last thing you need is a to do list. You just need to know that someone heard your plea.

I was born a literal person. I am very clear when I write. I was specific. I asked for prayers. That is what I wanted. I have my daily lists. I know what to do. Sometimes that list is not enough. That is what I was trying to convey. You might wonder how I can write this if I am depressed, because I am still depressed. For me, writing sometimes helps me find my voice and come out of it. But many of us that live with depression have had to learn to live with it. We function to some extent in spite of our depression. We know that it will probably get better because this isn’t our first time. What we need is people to listen when we are brave enough to say: Hey see me! I feel like I am drowning over here.

You can’t fix me. But you can see me and hear me or you can just leave me alone.

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.

Where We Are Now

by Summer D Clemenson | Sep 19, 2023 | About Summer, Chronic Illness, Life, Opinions

I have always noticed patterns to help me know where we are now. I look for them often, I think because I don’t always trust what people tell me or I might not trust what I am experiencing. When I was about 14 years old, I recognized that there was a pattern in my family that all the first born daughters were divorced or had marriage difficulties at least back to my great-great grandmother. Because I was the first born daughter, I didn’t think I would marry. My parent’s divorce was brutal and the relationship between my parents, including my step-mother, was very unfortunate. Being the go-between was very painful and stressful. Every important day and holiday was ruined by their behaviors, even after we were adults. I wish they could have just followed the parenting plan; I don’t even think they knew what the parenting plan said.

I did get married, but I was much older. I had gone through a lot of therapy and I married my best friend of 10 years. She had shown me a type of love I had never experienced before. Yes, marriage is hard sometimes and Karen and I have gone through a lot together. I think many couples would not have been able to go through what we have gone through and been able to continue, but we knew we were both broken in some ways before we married, and we knew I was chronically ill too, so it wasn’t a surprise that had to be adjusted to later in life. Our histories are very similar and we work very hard to forgive each other’s brokenness. We are lucky because we truly know God is the head of our household. I don’t make promises because too many have been made to me only to be broken so I wasn’t willing to make any of the traditional wedding vows. My main statement to my wife was that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life and when I didn’t love her or want to anymore, I would talk to God about it first. I have broken that one time and had to repent. But God is gracious and He has helped me come back to love. I am sure glad we were such good friends before we were married because sometimes we have to coast there for a bit but God always brings us back to love. It helps that we are both willing to be coached.

Another pattern I saw in my family is that there is always a golden child in every generation, as well as a scapegoat. There is also a black sheep, but not in every generation. The golden child is not usually the oldest child, but they could be. They are the strongest one. The scapegoat is the most sensitive one. The black sheep can’t fit in at all. They just don’t like to live like the rest of the family. The rules are too much for them for any number of reasons. The rest of the family can always shine and look good at everything they do but the black sheep just doesn’t know how to measure up. To be able to remain in the family there is a pecking order and emotional abuse, enough to keep everyone in line. The scapegoat will never really measure up but they will have enough success as long as they remember to follow the rules and never talk about their abuse. The golden child will lie to protect everyone else and make the scapegoat feel like a fool if they try to express their feelings about their abuse. The golden child will also use their position to hurt the scapegoat when necessary to remind them of their position. The black sheep will rarely come around. They know they aren’t welcome.

When I was a young adult I had a great-aunt. I had always known of her and yet I didn’t remember her because she didn’t come around. There wasn’t a lot said about her. But the feelings in the room when she was being referred to her were cold. I know she had some unhealthy habits and she had had a hard life. I know she had made some bad mistakes. I knew she had had to start over a lot. When she finally came for a visit and I got to meet her I thought she was great. She wasn’t polished like the rest of the family. She smoked a lot. But she was spunky and full of life. She was an authentic people person and I thought she was very brave. She didn’t need to have success to keep trying. I don’t know what she did to become the black sheep. I truly don’t know the whole story but, I believe we rarely know anyone’s whole story. I did know that I became afraid that I was going to be the next black sheep after I met her.

I haven’t written in a few weeks. I don’t write anymore when I am very upset. I used to write when I was hurting, but over the years I have made the rule to never write when I am angry. My words should never be out of vengeance anymore. I have to admit that I have written in anger and spite before, but I don’t do that now. My words are meant to help people, including me, understand what I have learned while I try to understand my life. I was contacted by a niece who told me that I lost my right to refer to her as my niece when I left the family and that she would seek legal action against me if I wrote about her again. There were other things she said that were very hurtful but I wasn’t angry with her. I have to admit, I don’t know how to refer to her, but I wont be using her name anymore.

When I was talking to my sister, Jamie Holloway, about it she asked me why I wasn’t angry with her and I said, her words were verbatim copies of those a sibling has used toward me several times. A sibling she spends a lot of time with. My niece is only saying what she had been taught to say. My niece doesn’t know anything other than what she has been taught because I have never been specific about my abuse and I never will be. As I told my niece, if I were to write down the specific abuses that plague me when my sibling triggers me, it would be in a notebook that no one would see, instead my wife, Karen G Clemenson, is the only one I have told about some of the really bad stuff. I am vague on purpose because I don’t think my parents intended to do what they did and allowed to happen to me.

I left after years of trying to convey to my parents that I needed change from them and my siblings, one in particular. This sibling was given free reign to abuse me. I was literally told I could never defend myself against my younger siblings because I was bigger than them, growing up. Yet, when I complained of abuse, there were no consequences. Of course, this sibling, the golden child, would think it was acceptable to abuse me. When I was tired of it and asked for protection. It was not there for me so I left. At first it was a break, but as this sibling would find people to provoke me and found ways to infiltrate every part of the family, I was no longer needed. I had always felt unwanted, since my parent’s divorce, so it was better that I just stayed away. It was a boundary I had to make. My parents could not respect my need for protection and anonymity so I had to make my own life without them.

Reading my niece’s message, that she felt that she could sue me for my writing did feel like a slap in the face but I didn’t feel like it was coming from her. I know it can’t. She is by herself, with no spouse or children to protect. She can’t sue me. I have never said anything bad about her. Why would I? I still see her as one of my greatest blessings.

One of my favorite stories about this person, when they were a child, happened when they were about 6 years old. We were living together at the time. I always wore skirts over pants. I still do. At first it was that I liked the more European look, especially with my Birkenstocks, but I had also grown to appreciate that pants are more comfortable and easy to work with than tights or pantyhose, but also if you get your skirt tucked up in your waistband, which happens, or the waistband gives out on you, you are not naked (both situations have happened to me). Anyway on this particular morning I was heading out to my car with my arms full and I heard a ruckus at the front door and a high pitched, “Auntie Summer stop!” That red-haired girl had so much energy and passion and her movements always reminded me of her great-grandmother, my Nana. She was all elbows. She ran straight at me and somehow managed to turn me around so she could fix the back of my skirt. I am sure I was more thankful for the opportunity for another hug than my skirt being fixed but I was also thankful for her “protecting me.” Of course, I can’t be angry with my niece. she had always been a protector and now she is trying to protect someone else. I understand.

If I could have one conversation with my niece, I would tell her that I am very proud of her. She has let me watch a small part of her life on Facebook. I know she has worked hard and followed her heart to travel and see the world. She has made decisions for herself. She is young and still learning. I am very proud of her. I know that being able to watch anything is over now but I am glad I had a small window for a time.

When I told my therapist about this situation, he agreed that my family cannot sue me. I have the right to write about my life. I have been vague and left out names on purpose. If anyone is offended by my writing, they shouldn’t read it. By seeking legal recourse they will only draw attention to themselves, thus telling on themselves, which I haven’t done.

I have several large bumps on my head, that are very painful, that I need to have removed. While going through my diagnosis list online today for e-check in for my consultation, I saw a diagnosis that I have ignored a few times. Not all of my doctors have it on my chart. It is kind of new. I already know about PTSD, Panic Disorder, OCD and Generalized Anxiety Disorder but now someone has added Major Depressive Disorder to my mental illnesses. I have ignored it because I didn’t want to think about another diagnosis, but when I read about it I know it is real and it fits. There are times I have trouble thinking, concentrating, making decisions and remembering things. I can spend countless minutes staring at the diffuser as the colors change and the mist floats through in the air. Loss of interest of anything I enjoy doing, even eating and self care wains for me at times. Memories of abuse and stressful times can keep me awake most of the night. Keeping myself isolated is normal too. This can happen because life has thrown a stressor at me. It can also happen because my sibling has found someone to try to reach me. They have done this twice in the last few months. Life can be stressful, so normal stress might come with a day or two of being “blue” but when I feel attacked it is more than a day or two and it is more than just being “blue.”

The words, “you are in your late 40’s and are still complaining about things that happened when you were a kid,” are not uncommon to me. I have thought them to myself throughout my life, even before I was in my late 40’s. I didn’t understand that these memories might not go away and in fact would torment me sometimes. For someone that doesn’t have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or is willing to deal with theirs, it might be easy to not have compassion, especially when secret keeping was my superpower. But when I got sick in 2014 and was hospitalized for 8 days, something in me broke. Something that had allowed me to play all the games and stay the scapegoat. I knew at some point I would not be able to come back to the old Summer, but would have to be the authentic Summer, and here I am. I am not trying to hurt anyone but I have to be honest with myself.

My therapist agrees, I can’t do anything to protect myself. I can’t prove that my sibling is hurting me. But I wont be silenced. I am building my own life. I told my niece that most of what I write about has nothing to do with my extended family anymore because they are no longer part of my life. I write about my life because there are people that read about it and are inspired. This article is for you. Don’t let anyone silence you. You may have had to keep secrets, when you were younger, to get through the hard times, but you don’t have to be quiet anymore. Its ok to get to know your truth and be proud of where we are now.

Be blessed.

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.

Some Things Are Pretty Great!

by Summer D Clemenson | Sep 4, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions, Prayers, Thanksgiving

Some things are pretty great! Being an auntie was the best part of my young life. The memories I have with Jordan, Allie, Jessa, Casey, Kayla and Braden are some of my all time best! I was never more happy than when I was with them. I have always loved children. But never like I had learned to love these children. They were the best of their parents and with them I suddenly understood more about myself because things I thought were weird in me, were in them, and they were perfect.

Braden once told me that he was not perfect, after I had told him he was the perfect Braden. I laughed and told him that is what I meant when I told him, he was the perfect Braden. I knew he wasn’t perfect, but he was the perfect Braden and I loved him for who he was, imperfections and all. I had factored those in.

I wasn’t ready to be an aunt when Jordan was born. I was only 17-years-old, but around the time Jessa and Casey were born I was about 25 and I was ready to drop everything for an afternoon for whatever they wanted. I was ready for clearance shopping all year round so that by the time birthdays and Christmas came, I had piles of great presents for everyone. I was ready to tell my mother that I loved Jordan and Jessa just as much as Casey and she would have to accept that. They weren’t steps to me.

I got to be myself with these children. Sometimes I even slipped in front of everyone else. They were confused for a moment because I was joyful and laughing. I spoke differently to the kids than I had ever been spoken to. I got where I didn’t yell unless they were so loud I couldn’t be heard and I used phrases like, “Did you feel loved when he did that to you?” I talked about Jesus, my best friend and was there when most of them asked Jesus into their hearts. I was glad to buy them all their first bibles, engraved with their names on them. One time, when they had all earned swats I talked about grace and how none of us deserve it, and since I didn’t make sure everyone got a nap and snacks when they needed it, I was wrong too so they were forgiven because that is what grace is. I wanted to be different.

When the other child answered that they didn’t feel loved, it gave the first child the option to make amends, and they always did. Casey, Kayla and Braden, and sometimes Allie were together so often that they were very close. They really did love each other and loved to play together but they sometimes got on each other’s nerves, but they didn’t want to make the other one to feel unloved.

I knew to ask that question because I often felt unloved growing up. I don’t think it was on purpose, but it still happened. If Jesus hadn’t introduced Himself to me under that apple trees in my backyard when I was 5-years-old my life would have looked very different. He gave me a foundation for all the times when I would be left alone or not validated, neglected or abused verbally. When my siblings would be allowed to abuse and mistreat me. When I had no one, I had God, even when I forgot, He always reminded me. For that I am so grateful.

My 30 year high school reunion is about to happen. I don’t feel the need to go. I went to the 10 year reunion, back when I was still in relationship with a few people I went to school with but in reality, I hardly remember anyone I went to school with and I am no longer friends with anyone but my sister, Jamie Holloway, from high school. School was my break from home. I don’t remember bullies. There probably were some but I was used to being called names at home. I was always a fat kid. When I graduated, I weighed 350 lbs. But I know now that my brain disassociates pain very easily so there are a lot of things I don’t remember.

I do remember standing up for Jamie. Boys can be mean to girls with big breasts. Which is stupid since no girl that I ever knew wanted to have big breasts. Kids can also be mean to girls in double casts trying to get into one of the only two doors into the school with a ramp. I remember telling off some football players, one day, and then making sure I got to school as soon as I could, every day, to make sure I could help her get through those doors and up that ramp. Jamie didn’t deserve some of the crap she got in high school. There were several times I defended her. It is no wonder that she has no desire to attempt to go to our reunion. I joked with my wife, Karen G Clemenson, that since Jamie was my prom date, I can’t go without her, but really, I am afraid that seeing certain people might wake up things I don’t want to remember.

This weekend I went to Allie’s 2nd baby shower. It was a beautiful event and the room was filled with family and love. It was a hot day and the building was not air-conditioned but it wasn’t too bad if you weren’t too active. As people began to leave, I was able to have a moment with my niece. She was feeling self-conscious because her nose was bright red and sweating (just like her dad, who has passed away) so I checked her ears. Then I reminded her that her dad’s ears turned bright red when he was tired and only one of her’s turned red and I could see she had a red ear, both her and her brother, Casey, were that way. She smiled. Her faced darkened and she reminded me that her sister, Kayla, didn’t come and her aunt, her father’s sister, lives just down the street and she didn’t come either. I hugged her and I know the words that came out of my mouth were not just mine, but the Holy Spirit: It’s hard to do, but we have to put the past behind us, and today is pretty great!

I got another smile and a nod.

God has been working with me to put the past behind me. Dwelling on the pain has not helped me to move forward. Waiting for changed behavior or validation is probably a waste of time, especially when those who have hurt me don’t think they are wrong.

The division in my extended family had to come. I have forgiven them. But there is no trust. There is no foundation to build it on. As someone who has stood up for others I loved, that were bullied, it took me many years to realize that I was bullied. It took my anger at how my extended family dumped Allie to understand that they did all the same things to me and much more and I needed to stop going back to the circus. I was not made to be a performer. My strength lies in my authenticity.

Their personal traumas are real but they are not my responsibility. They have the same opportunity to seek therapy and whatever it takes to heal for their peace of mind. That is what it would take for me to come back because I don’t give my time to people that don’t talk about issues and try to make them better, who aren’t considerate of someone who is hurting and who can only think of themselves and what will make them feel happy, especially if that is something that hurts someone else. I am not a scapegoat or a whipping boy anymore. I will not be rejected or ignored anymore. I am important and worthy because God said so.

Because I am no longer alienated but I am reconciled and blameless, and I am learning to be patient…today is pretty great!

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.

Thank You God!

by Summer D Clemenson | Aug 24, 2023 | About Summer, Life, Opinions, Prayers, Thanksgiving

Sometimes I have to stop and say: Thank You God

There are times that there is just no other answer I can come up with that explains some of the blessings that come in my life. I have had a lot of loss and I do have a lot of things I have to contend with every day but I know that I am never alone. Even when I forget that, I am reminded by Him that I am not. He is always faithful, even when I am tired and forget to be.

I was surprised to find this in my reading on Tuesday. I have been chewing on this because it makes so much sense, yet I was so surprised that it was part of the relationship with God. We are expecting life to get better and easier as we walk with Christ, and in many ways it is so much easier but in many ways it is also so much harder as well. I find myself thankful that He protects me from what I don’t need to know. I am grateful for His wisdom and that I can trust that He knows what I can handle.

God hasn’t chosen to let us have our apartment yet, and I don’t understand that, but I do know that He knows what He is doing in, and, through us. He has allowed some barriers, yet, He is leading us to be fruitful and generous in the other ways and I have to trust Him.

One thing I want to praise Him for is that I budget my part of the expenses almost to the dollar and for the past several months there seems to be anywhere from $15 to $25 left over in my checking account. I have been tucking away those few dollars into savings accounts. This month there was an overage of $60, exactly what I need to get Xavier’s shots next month. I have no answer but God. I check my list of expenses and see they all were paid and I get the same amount of money each month. But I know that God loves Xavier too and He knows that Xavier’s care is important to me.

Those little transfers may eventually add up to the first and last month’s rent and a truck rental to move without the help we have been trying to apply for. Sorrow is not so hard when you are resting in the arms of your Savior.

After I called the vet to make Xavier’s appointment for his shots in September and his exam in January, I texted my wife, Karen G Clemenson, to let her know I had the money for his appointments in a savings account so she didn’t have to worry about that bill when she the event pop up on her phone. She was thankful. I told her about my checking account overages and all she could say is: God is good all the time!

It is good to stop and say: Thank You God!

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.