Michelle N. Files's Blog, page 9

My Morning PSA – Credit Card Readers

This is just an FYI for those of you authors using card readers like Square or Paypal at events (obviously this applies to all retailers as well.) Effective Oct 1st chip readers are going into use. From what I’ve read this means if you DON’T have a chip reader, “merchants who cannot process chip-enabled cards could become liable for fraudulent transactions.” I don’t know about you but I don’t want to be responsible for fraudulent transactions. Think about it, a person buys your books/merchandise with a fraudulent card then you have to pay back the victim of the fraud AND you’re still out the for the lost sale. Free books for the fraudster at your expense–NOT COOL.  But have no fear Square and Paypal both have chip enabled readers available. Here’s the full NYT article if you’re interested in the full scoop.

NYT Article

‪#‎ProtectYourself‬ ‪#‎MyMorningPSA‬

Sticks & Stones (A Love Hugs & Sunshine post)

“Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me.” What a load of crap. No offense to the author of those words but seriously we all know better, right? I remember when I first published Soul Survivor I was telling a friend numbers are safe but words–words are dangerous! Words can hurt or they can heal. Words can express our hearts or build walls to hide our souls. Words are powerful–whether spoken or written.

Let me tell you something about kind words. Those are some of the most powerful words EVER! We should start calling compliments superhero fuel or something cause they are. Genuine words of encouragement and affirmation those are the kind of words that give you wings and those kind of wings last way longer than that can of Red Bull you just chugged. Haha! (I crack myself up.)

But seriously, think about it. Positive words have an intense power! I’ve been fortunate to have so many encouragers and lifters in my life–some of them have known me since I was a little tiny baby and some I’ve just met and some don’t even know my name or my story. When I start to become all Negative Nancy “I’m not good enough for this” and “I’m not good enough to that” I focus on those positive words from them and sometimes (brace yourselves) I even compliment myself or at least take the time to remember where I’ve been, what I’ve accomplished, and where I want to go. There’s a quote I see circling Facebook often and it says something like, “If you’re reading this you’ve survived your life thus far. Great job!” I’m paraphrasing there but you get the gist. Sometimes we get so hung up on negative stuff that we forget to look at all the good things. And there’s no worse enemy than that mean voice inside your head that likes to replay all the nasty things people have said.

Haters gonna hate. But they’ve got their own battle to fight. Doesn’t mean you’ve got to get dragged down into their dark muck. There’s SO much negativity out there–you don’t need an extra negative voice inside your noggin! Kick it to the curb!

Today instead of throwing sticks, stones, and negative sentiments give someone a compliment, a smile, and heck make sure to do the same for yourself! And if you feel like an awkward weirdo giving someone words of encouragement don’t worry–you’re not alone. I’m an awkward weirdo too. We have a secret club. And it’s super fun–it involves lots of laughing, smiling, and super cool dance moves. I haven’t found a good name for it yet but I’m liking Club Love Hugs & Sunshine or maybe the Secret Sunshine Society.

Birthdays, Memories, and a Grateful Heart #GriefConfessions

What a difference a year can make! That line is so cliche and yet incredibly true. I’ve been thinking all weekend about what to write today for Chris’s birthday. What words to move from my heart to the page? What is there I could say that I haven’t all ready?

Last year I wrote a post about “Embracing Your Number” and how we should be proud of our age. I wrote those words through tears and heart still full of pain. I read this post this morning and this paragraph stood out to me.

“Tomorrow I’ll be 31 an age my husband will never reach and there’s so much heartache in knowing that. I don’t want to celebrate it (and I usually love birthdays.) I’d prefer to not acknowledge it, but I will. Because for whatever reason I’m here and while 31 looks nothing like I hoped it would it’s still a blessing, because life is a gift even if sometimes we’d rather exchange it or return it for a new one…it’s still a gift.”

Reading those words I remember that dark and dreadful feelings of not wanting to live. The times I begged for God to take my life and to give it to someone more deserving. I thought in that moment I was done on this earth–I had nothing left to live for. I kept faking it and pretending but in my heart all I wanted to do was go to heaven and be done with this place. To go to sleep and wake up in a place without heartache and pain and see Chris’s face once more.

When I woke up this morning with a heart not gripped by despair,  I took a moment to say a little prayer of thanks. I reveled in the feel of my heartbeat without the repetitious squeeze of pain and took a free breath without the constricting pressure of sadness that once rested on my chest.

I’ve learned so many things in this past year about grief, life, and all sorts of little details about myself and others. I wish I could turn to Chris and ask his opinion on my adventures. I wonder if he would like the new paint in the house? If he’d be happy to see I finally got the memo about taking care of myself–mentally and physically? Would he be proud of my decisions? Or would he be shaking his head? I can tell you I’d probably get a lecture about getting the house in order and another one on the state of the weeds in the yard. LOL! Sometimes I wonder if he’s standing right next to me laughing and shaking his head–and seriously I don’t know how he couldn’t have those reactions.

One thing’s for sure, it’s nice to miss him without my heart bleeding. It’s nice to think of him and not feel lost and alone. It’s nice to know he’s in a better place. It’s given me peace to know he’s at peace. I have no doubts that Chris and the Big Guy in the clouds have been busy this past year putting new friends into my life when and where I need them most as well as moving those “old” friends into new important places in my life.

Last year I would’ve given anything to exchange my life, to turn back time but this year is different. This year I’m grateful for being alive and I mean REALLY BEING ALIVE again. Being able to laugh without the tug of darkness, to be free from despair, to see the shine in my eyes I once had before losing Chris. I look in the mirror and I see this girl, this woman and I’m proud that reflection is mine.

I hope Chris is proud too because I know he’s had a role in pulling me through. Chris was a persistent guy and when he set his mind to something it would be done in the most productive gung ho way. Last November I said a little prayer and asked Chris for help to feel alive again. (I know that sounds a little crazy but geez you should know by now I’m a little unhinged.) I like to think he had a convo with the Big Guy and said, “We’ve got to do something about this situation.” Cause shortly after that my heart was changed and my life has continued to be filled with so many amazing opportunities and people.

So, today on Chris’s birthday I’m grateful for the years I spent with him, the lessons he taught me, and especially for the love and friendship we shared. I don’t know any other way to honor him than that. And I thank him so very very very much for all the gifts he’s given me this year that money can’t buy. I’m happy to say when my birthday comes tomorrow I’m ready to celebrate and laugh with all the amazing angels in my life. I’m anxious and excited to see what new adventures await me! I have so many things left to accomplish before I get to heaven!

Happy Birthday, Chris! Thank you for helping me find my way back to Michelle again!

Love, Hugs, and Sunshine

 

 

 

Stop and Watch the Butterflies #MichellesMushyMoments

My sister asked me the other day, “What’s with you and butterflies?” It’s a valid question I’ve thought about since I gave her my answer. I don’t really know what it is about butterflies but I love them. They are special enough I even put them in a very pivotal scene in my first book (Seth and Hailee butterfly scene in Soul Survivor.)

They hold so many different meanings to me. Have you ever taken the time to watch a butterfly as it flutters and cascades through the air? The larger species tend to intrigue me most but even the little white and yellow ones make me smile. There’s something so incredibly beautiful and strong about butterflies. The process of change they go through from caterpillar to winged beauty is touching enough but even more so because it reminds me of my life. I’m betting it resonates with yours too—we all go through trials to get to periods of beauty.

There’ve been times in my life when I’ve been seeking confirmation and a fluttering butterfly crossed my path leaving me with a sense of peace and knowing the road I was taking was the right one. It happened back when I was about to publish my book and many times since.

Depending on the day and what’s going on in my life, a butterfly sighting can feel like a message from Chris or God that everything’s going to be okay and to keep going. The past few weeks I’ve noticed them daily—maybe it’s the season or there’s some biological explanation for all my sightings, regardless they give me peace and put a smile on my face.

In the past week, I’ve had a butterfly land on me, one fly in and chill on the dash of my car for a few moments, and just this afternoon when I let the pups out two black and yellow butterflies danced across my backyard. I watched them until they flew circling each other up into the sky. It was such a breathtakingly beautiful moment.

Since I’ve learned to slow down my life and especially my mind, I find my heart leading me more and more. One of the side effects of enduring immense pain is how brightly joy now shines in my heart. There are so many miracles around us—big and small if only we take a moment to notice. You know the saying “stop and smell the roses,” today I’m reminding you to stop and watch the butterflies. Hopefully they bring you a moment of peace and joy.

Love, Hugs, and Sunshine!

#WatchTheButterflies #MichellesMushyMoments

I Finished A Very Moving Book (The Evil Hours by David J. Morris)

I finished a book today. The Evil Hours: A Biography of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder by David J. Morris. It’s a completely different kind of book for me—nonfiction. It peaked my interest when it was released back in February for several reasons (personally and professionally.) It’s a book about trauma and PTSD—a book at times I had to walk away from because the words felt like they came from my own heart and at other times the sheer emotion radiating from the book was strangling. It left me many times saying a prayer for the men and women mentioned in the book as well as anyone touched by trauma.

There’s a lot of honest, realistic discussions about the science/psychology of trauma, diagnosis, treatment, spiritual elements, and government/industry interests, but the personal stories recounted are the most moving. Morris intertwines these personal accounts of veterans, sexual assault survivors, and other survivors of trauma with psychological studies as well as his personal accounts. (FYI I refuse to use the word victim in relation to those affected by trauma—it carries a connotation of weakness and in my eyes these people are certainly not weak ones!)

This book moved me way more than I ever intended it to which is why I’m sharing it with you. If you get the chance pick it up you should. You may not understand or agree with everything the author says and at times the situations may frustrate you (as they did me) but it’s truly a moving personal account of a man’s journey to understanding his own struggles with PTSD through research, writing this book, and other survivors’ personal accounts.

Chapter 12 was my favorite of all the chapters because it spoke of optimism and discussed a term called “post traumatic growth.” It was one of the most moving chapters in the book for me. There was so much hope and perseverance in that chapter and those are two things I admire and cling to every day.

Here’s the Amazon link and synopsis if you’re interested. I’m sure you can find it elsewhere as well.

Amazon Link

Just as polio loomed over the 1950s, and AIDS stalked the 1980s and ’90s, posttraumatic stress disorder haunts us in the early years of the twenty-first century. Over a decade into the United States’ “global war on terror,” PTSD afflicts as many as 30 percent of the conflict’s veterans. But the disorder’s reach extends far beyond the armed forces. In total, some twenty-seven million Americans are believed to be PTSD survivors. Yet to many of us, the disorder remains shrouded in mystery, secrecy, and shame.

Now, David J. Morris — a war correspondent, former Marine, and PTSD sufferer himself — has written the essential account of this illness. Through interviews with individuals living with PTSD, forays into the scientific, literary, and cultural history of the illness, and memoir, Morris crafts a moving work that will speak not only to those with the condition and to their loved ones, but also to all of us struggling to make sense of an anxious and uncertain time.

Sending love, hugs, and sunshine! Hope you have a fabulous Tuesday!

Take Out The Trash

Taking out the trash—my least favorite chore for so many reasons. I used to think it was because that was my late husband’s job and I tried to rationalize all the emotional reasons as to why I hated it. But I’ve come to understand I just despise taking out the trash. I know it’s ridiculous and from my kitchen to the garage is a whole ten steps and from the garage to the side of the street is maybe an additional ten steps but I still don’t like it.

This week especially my load for the poor garbage guys is huge! Between getting my house painted (no more white walls for this girl!) and with the house already in disarray I’ve tackled the HUGE chore of cleaning out and de-cluttering the house.

As I sat drinking my morning coffee thinking about how I don’t want to take out the trash for the billionth time this week I had a thought. (Scary I know.) So here I sit at my laptop procrastinating by writing this blog post because there’s a guest room closet packed to the brim with memories, keepsakes, and junk I MUST clean up today which will also create at least two more bags of trash to take out.

Taking out the trash is something we have to do from time to time within our lives—not only the physical act but also the emotional act. Between the amount of garbage and useless information that gets forced on us from all sides—the media, facebook, friends, acquaintances, books, magazines, etc. sometimes we’ve got to say HOLD UP and take out the trash. And I don’t know about you guys but last week was kind of a doozy from all angles!!!

We are assaulted incessantly with negativity, judgments, and all kinds of disrespect. Around every corner something is waiting to weigh us down—it’s just a part of life. Bad things happen, people rant, feelings get hurt on the daily BUT we don’t have to hold on to the negative smelly trash that gets dumped in our lap.

Some days all I do is clean out the mental garbage in my head.

You’ll never be pretty enough or skinny enough no matter what you eat or how much you work out.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with how I look. This is who I was made to be and I’m going to keep exercising and taking care of this body. I might not look the way society thinks I should look but I don’t want to be a cookie cutter plastic Barbie doll. That’s not me.

You’re not smart enough.

I might not know everything but I can learn and if something is over my head there’s no shame in asking for help.

You can’t write another book. People are going to figure out you suck.

What does it matter if I’m not the best writer at least I’m having fun doing it. And if it doesn’t work out at least I know I tried. No regrets.

You’re a horrible person. Why did (or didn’t) you say that to so and so? Why didn’t you help them? That’s impossible. That will never work out. You can’t do this. You can’t do that….

Take all those negative nasty thoughts and crumple them up and throw them in the garbage. Because all those thoughts are just that SMELLY, USELESS, BROKEN, DIRTY TRASH!!! Sometimes those words are really heavy and you might need a friend to get them in the dumpster—that’s okay! Ask for help. Sometimes those thoughts are sticky and it takes a lot of scrubbing and scraping to get them off your skin—that’s okay! Keep scrubbing until the nasty boogers break loose and you can dump them in the can.

It’s not an easy chore to clean out our emotional baggage and negative thoughts and some days I’d rather sit and let the foul trash pile up instead of putting in the effort to clean it out but when you do you’ll feel soooo much better. And you’ll smell better too.

Don’t Cry Because It’s Over Smile Because It Happened #GriefConfessions

Four years ago my family and friends gathered in the sweltering July heat to watch Chris and I get hitched. A very different day from the overcast weather outside my window today. Last year this time my best friend and my sister spent the day with me watching movies and binge watching Witches of East End on Netflix. They didn’t want me to be alone on my first anniversary without Chris. I’m so thankful for that.

This morning on my second anniversary without Chris, I awoke tangled in blankets—my golden retriever ON my feet, my sheltie curled up against my side, and my cat meowing in my ear demanding her morning treats. So much about this year is so different from last. For one I was happy to wake up (well as happy as a non-morning person can be.) I recall the heavy weight that rested in my chest and how the thought of getting out of bed used to be a horrendous chore and I’m thankful those dark feelings are gone.

If I’d told myself this time a year ago that I’d be able to face the day and enjoy every second instead of fighting through until I could go back to sleep I would’ve never believed myself. And I probably would’ve felt a sense a betrayal. I’ve learned so many lessons since losing Chris but the greatest lessons I’ve learned have been about myself.

Being alone isn’t fun. Grieving isn’t fun. Taking the time to take nurse your wounds and care for yourself REALLY isn’t fun. But all those “not fun” things were necessary to get to a stage of acceptance. I used to think that accepting the loss of my husband meant forgetting him, that letting go meant pushing him to the far recesses of my mind like he never existed. But that isn’t acceptance—acceptance doesn’t mean you stop loving someone, that you don’t miss them anymore, that you don’t care about them anymore—no acceptance means finding peace—for them and yourself.

Once I recovered from the shock of losing Chris, I wanted to die. I prayed for death or peace. Since I’m still here typing away you can gather which request was granted—peace. It took time, tears, and you—if you’re reading this you are one of my angels. I thank God for each of you often. You kept me going when I wanted to quit and one of you, rather unexpectedly, pulled me from the grave and back into the world of the living. There are not enough thank you’s in the world for each of you.

Being alive again—recognizing the sparkly blue eyed girl in the mirror once more—that has been one of God’s greatest miracles in my life. There’s a deep indescribable gratitude I carry for each of you. But with embracing life comes guilt—guilt for all the things I still dream of like a family, guilt for all the things I have that Chris didn’t get the chance to enjoy and guilt for starting over and being excited about it. That ugly guilt monster creeps in and tries to darken my happy days. Some days it wins but most of the time I beat it down with a big shiny stick.

When I lost Chris our tree of dreams was cut down, but little did I know a new seed was planted. It took time to grow, tears to water it, and now the old life and dreams we shared has given way to a new healthy sapling with roots filled with thirteen years of memories together. My tough tiny tree keeps growing—getting stronger by the day waiting for the next adventure. It might be sunshiney, it might be stormy, it might be something in between, but whatever it is it will be life and life is a remarkable gift.

While today will always be a special day, one filled with memories of wedding cake and joy, it’s not a burden like it once was. Just like I’m starting over, I believe Chris is too. I’m choosing not to dwell in the loss but live in the gifts of life past, present, and future.

You know that quote, “Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened.” Well I’m smiling today just like I did four years ago in my lacey wedding gown. Love doesn’t die it just changes form and today I’m filled with tremendous amounts of love.

If you’re stuck in a dark place don’t give up. I’ve come to learn nothing is impossible. Trust me I’ve lived it, survived it, and came back on top. Plus some people say I’m pretty smart so you should listen to my advice.

Seeing Things Others Don’t

I have this problem and I know it can get me into a lot of trouble. The problem, you ask? I tend to see the best in people even when they aren’t acting their best.

How’s this a problem? Lots of reasons but the one I find most difficult to deal with—people can’t understand how I see these things in others. Sometimes “people” are acquaintances but the most difficult “people” are family and friends who don’t understand what I’ve seen.

When you see something in another person but those you love cannot understand it, it hurts. You want to open their eyes and make them believe in the other person like you do. These are the times when I wish I could hand them my heart and allow them to feel what I’ve felt and experienced so they can “get it” too.

Because of my past experiences and my personality those close to me have this vicious desire to protect me. It’s sweet, flattering, and I love them even more for it BUT sometimes it can be daunting. Maybe they don’t realize I see all those negative things that they see but I also see positive things they don’t. Often times I know they don’t want to see me hurt again. But this is life—hurt and pain are inevitable. We have a choice to let those hurts cripple us or catapult us. I lived the crippled life for a while—I prefer to be catapulted.

One of Those Days #GriefConfessions

Today was one of those days. One of those days where for no real reason the weight of grief hung heavy on my heart. Days like today are the worst because there’s no warning. At least when I hear the roar of a motorcycle or the sound of sirens or even a stereo thumping too loud (Chris used to be all about that bass—LOL!) it makes sense. But none of these events happened nor was today’s date significant–no today was one of those sneaky snake kind of days where the sadness coils around your heart before you can prepare yourself.

It’s not that I don’t think about Chris every day—I do. I remember the good, the bad, and the in between and thankfully it doesn’t gut me on a daily basis anymore but today my heart ached a little deeper. The pain of grief doesn’t get easier BUT you can learn how to handle it with time. And handling it strengthens your heart and gives you an awe-inspiring sense of confidence.

The hardest part I’ve encountered on this unwanted grief journey is learning to be kind to myself and not get so frustrated when days like today happen.

There aren’t many things in this world I despise but cemeteries—they make the cut. I hate the cemetery. It invokes nothing but pain and hurt for me. I know for others it’s a place of comfort and I fully respect that but for this girl it’s a tortuous place. I’ve been to Chris’ grave less than ten times and I’ve cried every single time. I don’t tend to stay more than five minutes when I do visit—considering my disdain for the place you can understand why. Even so, some days like today the compulsion to go there is undeniable. So I went and I cried and I prayed. A few more tears slipped out as I drove home. Then I nursed my wounds and allowed myself a few hours of self isolation while cuddling with my furry children in bed. Then I got up gave a final and went to the gym—intense sadness gone.

What amazes me is how much tending to my emotional wounds really helps. An episode like that would once put me down and out for a day but today it only lasted a few hours and I was back to laughing and feeling free again.

As I’m typing this blog post I don’t even know why I’m sharing this but my heart is telling me to so I am. That’s one thing I’ve learned to trust without wavering—my heart. It’s difficult sometimes to quell the rational part of my brain that tries to poke holes in the theories and truths of my heart. It’s even more difficult when people you trust the most can’t understand the ways of your heart what it sees in others, how it feels, what it believes. But every time I follow my heart I have no regrets.

So, I’ll stop my rambling and hopefully this post will mean something to someone. Whether it’s being kind to yourself when grieving, following your heart, or something else all together. After all, I write to heal myself and hope in the process it can help others too. I love you, dear reader. Always and Forever.

#GriefConfessions

Light A Fire

Wait! Don’t grab your gasoline and matches just yet. I’m not telling you to literally set things on fire. I’m not promoting arson here although I do enjoy the occasional bon fire. I’m talking emotionally, metaphorically, spiritually—light a fire—in yourself or someone else.

I can’t tell you how many times when my life was nothing but ashes someone would say something or do something that kindled my spirit. You may not have known it and if I’d been stable enough to realize it I would’ve told you how you were changing me but grief stole a lot of my words and coherent thoughts.

We have no idea what kind of ashes people are buried under. We’ve all been burned by life one way or another. Something has hurt us—the death of a loved one, a lost opportunity, a broken relationship, an unfair situation—we’ve all been on the receiving end of the torch of misfortune.

Some scars were left on our skin but the hardest scars to deal with are the ones left behind on our hearts. They tend to throb at the most inopportune time and are the most difficult to explain because sometimes there’s no obvious reason for the unexpected internal turmoil they cause. The scars are the kind that try to stifle our joy and hold us back from living life to the fullest. They inflate our insecurities and deflate our strengths.

It’s hard to remember each person has their own set of problems especially when we’re on the receiving end of someone’s pain. A snide comment, a sullen face, or any other unprovoked negative reaction from a person tends to send us in the opposite direction of positivity and turns off our fountain of kindness. But these moments are when we need to light a fire of hope in hurting hearts. Show compassion. Pour out compliments. Be a positive force in their life. If these things are too difficult then simply smile—not only is it good for them it’s good for you!

When I was buried in the ashes of grief friends, family, and even strangers would smile at me. I did my best to force a smile in return. Boy was that a difficult task at times but eventually the smiles were no longer an obligatory pulling up of the corners of my mouth—nope. Eventually they became real and bright and sparkling again. So, if you can’t find the positive words to share then at least share a smile—you never know what kind of flame you’ll be kindling with your pearly whites. It might even be your own!

If you’re sitting in a pile of ashes today—no matter how big or small—I have a message for you. Stand, shake off the hurt, and pull the corners of your mouth into the biggest smile you can. You can get through this. You can overcome this. You’re a phoenix. Spread your wings, rise from the ashes, and spread the beautiful fire of your spirit. You never know who might be in need of the unique flames of comfort and encouragement only YOU can give.

#LightAFire #RiseFromTheAshes #BeAPhoenix