My First Blog

Let me introduce myself. My name is Christine. I live in a small town in Tennessee and love the people that make up this beautiful community.  Throughout my 40+ years on this little planet of ours, I have had many happy moments, some sad times, and downright horrible experiences. I have triumphed through each one of them, although at times, I cannot tell you how.

I am writing all of this now and in the future in hopes that putting myself “out there” I will be able to at least help 1 person. Many can relate to some of my stories, do not know how they will get through it. If I can help 1 person in this, then, in my opinion, it is well worth it.

Not all will be “feel good” stories. But I do have my moments of sincere bliss that I also want to share. Just know, you are not alone in your journey. If I can get through it and excel the way I have, you can too….. Together we can share, pass no judgement, heal and share stories, both successful, and some not so much.



The touch you have given me

I crave on nights like this

I have no one to talk to

Your caress I miss

Why must you leave

Like a ghost in the night

What did I do wrong

I will try harder with all my might

Making like a ghost

That seldom appears

Your actions speak louder

Than words I would surely hear

The choice is yours

I’ve never tried to contain

Your heart or your spirit

Just please don’t ignore my pain


On cold, rainy days like this I would love nothing more than to curl up on my couch, cover up with a cozy blanket and ready my book with a glass of wine.  That would be the life, right? I did that for many years.  I was a stay at home mom for almost 5 years, and I can tell you, even though I was blessed to be able to do that, it gets very monotonous.

When I made the decision to go back into the workforce because of complete boredom, (and needing funding for all the books I had on my Amazon and BAM wish list) I gave up that everyday lifestyle for the crazy idea of owning my own business. It was a decision that has both ups and downs.

But enough of that for now. That is not why I am blogging today.

Today I would like to share with you something that is near and dear to my heart. Mental Health. Many family members have been diagnosed with bi-polar. From grandparents to children, it runs in my family. Why I have to ask? And why have I not been diagnosed with it? I have been diagnosed with several other mental health stigmas, but bi-polar has never been on my paperwork, except for the family history part of it.

Since I was a child I always felt like I was different. Maybe it was because growing up as a minority in NM made me feel different, or maybe because I just never felt like I really “fit in” to one particular clique. I kinda made my own, felt more comfortable that way. Sure I had a handful of friends, a few really good ones I still stay in contact with even today, but I always had, in the back of my mind, that I never really belonged to anything permanent. Why is that? I’ve been asked if someone told me that (no) or if I was made to feel that way (not really). I just have never understood that part of it which (partly) caused my childhood depression.

As I was growing up, my grandmother was my main caregiver. She lived with us while my mom and dad worked. I would always do things with my dad like fishing, hunting, camping, anything outdoorsy. But looking back, I never really did much with my mother. She, at some point in my life, was diagnosed with bi-polar. If she wasn’t working, she was sleeping. If she wasn’t sleeping, she was always out doing other things. Never really bothered me until I was a mother myself, and was involved in my children’s activities, that I noticed this.

I never understood bi-polar until my son was 8 and he started to have huge violent outbursts. W would take him to doctors, who would just push pills our way to calm him down. Finally we were able to get a doctor to run a series of tests on him. That’s when we discovered his bi-polar. I did not understand how this could be. My mother would never have outbursts like he has. That’s when the Dr referred me to a book to educate myself. “Having a child with bi=polar” I read that book like a bible for the first month, reading it more than once, and to this day I think I still do not completely understand.

Good memory moment: My grandma always made sure I was taken care of, had what I needed, and a lot of what I really didn’t need. To say I was spoiled by her in an understatement. I was her everything. Everyone in the family knew that, she didn’t make it a secret. I loved her more than life itself. She loved me even when I came home late, drunk, mad, you know, all those things that most teenagers do. She never yelled at me, but would lock herself in her room until she calmed down, would find me, and tell me how stupid I was, or how I needed to calm down.

My best memory with my Gram was every New Years Eve that I was home, we would always make root beer floats just before midnight to bring in the New Year. She said “this is as close as you get to beer from me”. Those were good times. When I got older I thought they were kinda corny, but did it anyway cause I liked to see her smile.

So, to make a long story short, my son was and is bi-polar. Now that he is an adult he refuses to believe that, off medications, thinks we drugged him during his youth so he could not be normal, or because we didn’t want to deal with him. We speak about twice a year, I will not allow him to come to my house, when he does he threatens to kill my husband, and me if I get in the way. It is a very sad life for him, but do not know anything else to do…… This adds to my depression because I feel like I’ve failed as a mother. Reassurances by friends, etc are the opposite, but, in my mind, it is true. You cannot help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. More on that subject at another time.







Sept 11, 2001

Do you remember where you were? I sure do! At the time I was living in the same community I am in now. I had worked 3rd shift, was home sleeping, when I suddenly woke up sweating. My mind was racing, couldn’t understand what was going on. So to try to get back to sleep, I turned on the TV….

I was watching the devastation right before my eyes. People crying, newscasters completely confused, not knowing what to report, and a re-run of the plane that had hit the first tower. At that time, the thought was it had been a terrible accident, when the second plane came into view and crashed into the second tower. I remember Matt Lauer making a statement “We are under attack”.

Then the picture cut away to President George W Bush, who was reading to little children in a school in Florida. I will never forget the look on his face when the gentleman beside him leaned over and whispered to him about the second plane. Before he was able to put together a news conference, we heard about the Pentagon and Flight 93.

As an American citizen, I was terrified. As a mother, I went and picked up my children at school and brought them home. No one knew if it was the beginning or the end of this reign of terror, sure didn’t want my kids far from me at that point. To say that the USA was in a state of panic, is definitely an understatement. It shook everyone around the world at that point.

My husband, who was at work, was aware and making preparations at the prison we both worked at, in the event of a catastrophic event locally. I remembered that his father was on a plane that morning flying home from Chicago, and we did not know which planes  had hit the tower and was extremely worried, not knowing his whereabouts for hours.

As the news continued, myself and my children watched the 2 towers fall, and I remember not being able to breathe for a few seconds. Knowing all the people that were still in the buildings, the tons of debris floating to the ground and crushing innocent people with nowhere to run out of harms way. It was many years later I found out my aunt and uncle were downtown New York making a delivery for their trucking company when all this happened.

My father in law, who was unaware of anything happening, landed in Nashville, and heard about everything going on in the terminal of the airport. Once he was home, he contacted me to let me know he was safe…. as it is well known, not everyone’s family was as fortunate as ours.

For days, non stop news coverage of all 4 flights was on everyone’s television, that is all we talked about and prayed for the first responders for rescue and recovery. I cannot imagine being one of those who were directly involved, but I do know, had I been up there, I would have been right in the middle of it.

Some people want to erase history….That is impossible. What has happened has happened. They asked that the news coverage be limited, as to not damage our children. I do not agree with that. Children need to know, the good and bad, history. Whether they live through it, or read about it, they all should know. Just my closing opinion…