de⋅pressed  /dɪˈprɛst/
–adjective
1. sad and gloomy; dejected; downcast.
2. pressed down, or situated lower than the general surface.
3. lowered in force, amount, etc.
4. undergoing economic hardship, esp. poverty and unemployment.
5. being or measured below the standard or norm.
6. Botany, Zoology. flattened down; greater in width than in height.

I grew up, depressed. My entire existence it seemed, was the pits. I did not know gladness or joy. I didn’t know happiness. I didn’t know peace. When I became a teen, I questioned what the point of our existence was if it sucked so badly to be here. How does one find joy? Peace? Happiness? What is the point of living, if there’s no LIFE in it?! I just didn’t understand.

I grew up in a small town in a less than perfect family. All families have issues, so this doesn’t make me an island by any stretch. If you don’t have dysfunction, then you’re not ‘normal’. It just is what it is. It begs me to question, though, why dysfunction and depression has become the ‘norm’ in our society? In the world, frankly. Where has true happiness and joy and contentment and peace gone? Why do so few people have it? Why is it so difficult to find it? I have struggled for years and years in an uphill battle to find it…even a morsel or glimpse of it. Something. ANYTHING.

Today, I’m a single mom sitting in the middle of having lost my vehicle, my job, my man…I have very little income, could lose my house at any moment, its freezing cold outside, I have to ask so many people to help me; to borrow their car or whatever. I could feel stifled and suppressed and isolated and alone and like the world is against me because it seems like everything is a struggle…because it is…yet I am content. Peaceful. Happy. Joyful. And I wonder how I got here? What WAS my depression? Where did it come from? Why did it plague me for so very long and how did I find my way out?

I was on heavy duty antidepressant medication for four years. I was on Prozac for awhile and it did help to initially bring my blues out into the light a little bit. But in hind sight I wonder more if it was the circumstances of my life at that time that lifted me or if it was actually the drugs? Was it chance that they coincided? After some time, though, the sunshine turned into manic episodes and my medication was changed. I was then placed on Zoloft, which seemed to have a milder affect on me; didn’t throw me into fits of mania (mania to me was excessive excitability – not anything like I’d ever experienced; more a crazed excitability). Over time, however, it just didn’t seem the antidepressants were doing what they were supposed to do. I was still down. Still bluesy. Still in a funk, but more of a cloudy funk than the rawness of intense depression that I had before medication began. I didn’t like either. I didn’t like to take pills if they weren’t going to ‘fix’ or alleviate the problem. I’m not satisfied with glazing over things. I don’t put bandaids on things and hope the owie goes away. I want to know the source and the cause, and change THAT…because the symptoms were just not okay. I knew that I needed to talk to someone, so I’d ask my doctors if they could refer me. Instead of referring me, they just increased my dosage. In time, another medication was added to what I was taking – Depakote. It is a seizure medication that when accompanied by other antidepressant medication is supposed to help level out the extremes of moods. After quite some time, probably a year or so, of asking for someone to TALK TO, someone to work out what it was that was really ailing me but being disregarded over and over, with medication so elevated that some days I was so numbed out I couldn’t feel anything, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I was done with medication. If nobody was going to help me, then I would help myself. I quit the meds cold-turkey. First of all, it is medically STRONGLY advised not to do so. And I had some complications, but I was able to work through them. When on seizure medication, without an actual seizure disorder, I ended up having small seizures. Nothing that anybody on the outside would recognize, but I knew it…my brain would seize. Hard to explain, but anyways…I was able to work through that by taking a pill when I had those episodes and it eventually subsided. (PLEASE do not accept this as ‘permission’ or an idea to try it on your own…I’m only sharing my experience. It was very dangerous for me to take matters into my own hands. Others may not be so ‘lucky’ as I was and experience much more severe effects.)

I found myself a counselor who COULD NOT medicate or subscribe medication. I wanted to TALK OUT what I needed to. I didn’t know what I needed to talk about…I just knew that it was what I needed to do. A gut instinct, if you will. I saw my counselor for two years straight, once a week, somethings twice a week and sometimes double sessions. I had a lot of junk. I unlearned a lot of lies. I quit going to her because I moved out of state. I tried to pick counseling back up after I moved, but I found that I got the deer in the headlights look from many of the counselors. They had no idea how to further help me. I knew I wasn’t done working through stuff, but I’m a very deep person and I have learned over the years that I cannot communicate with very many people and the level that I understand things. Eventually I gave up on finding another counselor. I think it was a blessing that I found the one that was able to understand me. But in life, once we receive one blessing doesn’t necessarily mean we’ll be blessed with that same blessing again and again.

While I was taking medication, I was told by my docs that depression is essentially a non-curable disorder. Once you start taking antidepressants you really have to take them for the rest of your life. Just like a diabetic who has to take insulin for the rest of their lives; its the same kinda deal. I’ve heard this from A LOT of others I’ve known who have been on medication. This seems to be the answer Docs give their patients. I wasn’t satisfied with that answer. I will NOT be plagued with depression my entire life. I absolutely refused! I didn’t know how to find my way out, but I knew that I was not going to be satisfied with that answer. The docs give this scenario because it is a chemical imbalance. But I believe whole heartedly that they have it backwards. The chemical imbalance does not cause depression. Depression causes the chemical imbalance. Yes, it is true, that there are TRUE cases of chemical imbalance. But I believe that as much as 90% of diagnosed cases of depression are NOT this variety. Just as shock or any other event causes reactions in your body, I believe that depression causes a reaction in us.

If this is the case then, how do we find out way out of depression? What IS depression? In its simplest form, depression is caused by living contrary to our truth. What does THAT mean? It means we’re living a lie. Something in the way we are living, is a lie. Its wrong. Wrong for us. Things we believe or have been taught to us are wrong. So how do we find out the truth? Well, we look to the source of truth. The source of all things. We learn how things are ’supposed’ to be, or were intended to be. The way things were CREATED to be. And we find our truth from the Creator of the universe; of the world; of us. God.

The world has done a number on our interpretation of who God is. Religion has done a number on our perspective of who God is. Religion is not the answer. Religion is suppressive and stifling. It is man’s way of interpreting how we should live for God. If we set aside what the world thinks we should do, and ask God, Himself, He will speak to us, individually. We are all created individually and He has an individual plan for each of us (Jer 29:11). Mine is not the same as yours. Yours is not the same as someone else’s. We are INDIVIDUAL. Religion serves to stuff us all into a box that we don’t fit into!

There are rules and guidelines that we should all follow, generally speaking, and they are found in the Bible. It is the inspired written Word of God and if we read the Bible as if it was written for each of us individually, we will begin to see that there are truths in there for us, individually. The truths are REAL. And freeing! Some may argue that the Bible has been translated a thousand times by men, and it can’t be trusted, along with a thousand other reason not to believe it, but if we understand that man IS falable, that man is NOT perfect, and we learn to trust that GOD is perfect, that He CAN be trusted, and if we learn to lean on HIM and understanding HIM, then our truth will be revealed and we will find freedom. Even if your house burns down or your car or your job or your life…  In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. John 16:33

 I didn’t go from depression to freedom overnight. I accepted Jesus as my personal savior a little over 5 years ago. It has been a journey, for sure. There has been nothing easy about it. But you know how when you go to the gym to work out, you experience a little bit of pain? But then you feel better? And if you continue to work out, you still sometimes feel pain, but you always feel better and eventually if you keep working out, then you realize that you’ve got this new body! ) Its the same with finding your truth. God’s truth for you. If you make a concerted decision to work out, you know you will have pain, but it is and will be worth it. Those who choose to accept Christ and live their life for Him, will find pain, but it really doesn’t take long to know that He is who He says He is, and He does what He says He does. He will show His truth to you pretty quickly if not immediately upon making that decision. And freedom ALWAYS follows. Peace. Comfort. Contentment. First it is about little things, then sometimes big things, but its an ongoing process, just like working out. You can’t expect that if you go to the gym one time that you will suddenly be transformed into this beautifully sculpted body. It takes time, patience, persistence, and motivation to want something different. Something better.

I can’t say for sure how long I’ve ‘officially’ been depression free. If I remember correctly, I have contemplated going back on meds even after I was saved, during some particularly gruesome times, but after a short time, I always opted NOT to. That is not the answer, but a crutch. Its a false hope that it will ‘fix’ the problem. It doesn’t fix it. Just like religion does not ‘fix’ us, but hinders our growth, so I believe medication does for most. Digging to the core of our truth is what will ‘fix’ us. Pressing in, and through the hard stuff is rewarding. Did you know that a seed actually dies first, before it sprouts? So an oak tree has to actually DIE before it can become alive and grow to its full potential. So, too, we must die to the lies and what we’ve all been programmed to believe, before we can grow and thrive and live a truly abundant life; full of joy and happiness and peace galore. I’m so grateful to have died…in order to live happily with nothing. )

Article here in Policy Review, a publication of the Hoover Institute at Stanford University.

Excerpt:

A free society needs people with consciences. The vast majority of people must obey the law voluntarily. If people don’t conform themselves to the law, someone will either have to compel them to do so or protect the public when they do not. It costs a great deal of money to catch, convict, and incarcerate lawbreakers — not to mention that the surveillance and monitoring of potential criminals tax everybody’s freedom if habitual lawbreakers comprise too large a percentage of the population.

The basic self-control and reciprocity that a free society takes for granted do not develop automatically. Conscience development takes place in childhood. Children need to develop empathy so they will care whether they hurt someone or whether they treat others fairly. They need to develop self-control so they can follow through on these impulses and do the right thing even if it might benefit them to do otherwise.

All this development takes place inside the family. Children attach to the rest of the human race through their first relationships with their parents. They learn reciprocity, trust, and empathy from these primal relationships. Disrupting those foundational relations has a major negative impact on children as well as on the people around them. In particular, children of single parents — or completely absent parents — are more likely to commit crimes.

Without two parents, working together as a team, the child has more difficulty learning the combination of empathy, reciprocity, fairness, and self-command that people ordinarily take for granted. If the child does not learn this at home, society will have to manage his behavior in some other way. He may have to be rehabilitated, incarcerated, or otherwise restrained. In this case, prisons will substitute for parents.

I am reading her book Love and Economics right now, and this argument is in the first couple of chapters, which is how I found this article.

Dr. J’s blog is here.

My 15 year old son, has left standard high school and got accepted to his high school for Independent Study.  I think that he thinks that all he has to do is nothing, but the independent study school is very strict and if he misses more than one assignment they kick him out.

Twice he has stayed up all night to get his papers done. I had to resist  being over critical, although I didn’t have the time because I had to go to sleep. 

Shock of all shocks when he came home with a B+, an A and an A-. I had to resist asking if the teacher had been on LSD, but what do I know. His papers were actually good. I thought I would have an I  told you so moment, but I was trumped by his high grades.

It’s jolting how easily a desired ideal becomes delusion in the face of reality. My mother says my life has been, comparatively, charmed. I was an only child with a father who was only semi-absentee. My extended family was instrumental in helping to raise me, which meant I began to fly at the age of four and saw city and country and interstate early and often, whenever my mother needed the space to inhale an “un-tandem” breath.

This kept her from wholly resenting me and made me feel both exponential love and fierce independence.

When I went off to college, I incurred about $40,000 of debt, because the scholarship my father’s employment was supposed to secure for me fell through when he quit his job in a huff of ego and indignation. Neither of my parents helped me finance my education. But during my senior year, when my student loans wouldn’t cover the total cost of my degree, my grandmother took out a $7,000 private loan to insure that I was able to graduate in four years.

I was the product of a very healthy village.

At graduation, so many people from my father’s family showed up that, had it rained and I had been forced to use the four tickets I’d been allotted, rather than the unlimited standing room our sunny outdoor ceremony provided, at least five people would’ve been unable to watch me walk.

I know the singular joy of making those closest to me proud. I know how it feels to be encouraged to succeed, from birth to adulthood. I suppose this means that my mother’s right. My life has been, comparatively, charmed.

Things derailed a little after I got my BA. I’ve always been a little adrift. I’m a writer. I’m morose and meandering. Definitely not a Type A personality. Not particularly ambitious. Certainly don’t kowtow in order to insulate myself from demotion or downsizing; I usually don’t care enough about where I am to be sad about leaving, when the time comes. I pursue and maintain employment because it’s important for me not to have to ask other people for money.

People I’ve loved ask me for money, a lot. I almost always have it. I almost always give it. Occasionally, this bothers me–but usually only in cases where I feel like I’m being treated like a solution instead of a person.

Anyway, after my BA, I moved home to help my mother financially recover from a divorce. I spent four years on that and during that time I learned what it was like to financially and emotionally defer to someone’s needs other than my own. Twenty-one was a good and fair age at which to learn this lesson.

Some girls have to learn it in the womb.

Then, at 25, I started a master’s program. In creative writing. At one of the most esteemed arts schools in the country. That was the kind of whim that would’ve needed to wait, had I prioritized a family then. I didn’t think seriously of beginning a family then. In fact, the low rumbling of wanting had only just begun to surface. It had no shape or direction, only a distinct pang to attend it, every time another friend or cousin or acquaintance married or began to thicken with new life.

I incurred another $32,000 of debt for that endeavor. Just as I’m not particularly ambitious, I’m also not particularly practical or forward-thinking. I don’t plan very far into the future. This is not to say that I’m entirely short-sighted; I’m not.

But you should know that thinking far ahead has always been pretty difficult for me, as my life has been a series of unexpected, unforeseeable events I couldn’t have insulated myself from if I’d tried.

So I don’t really try.

Which brings me to this: there are some decisions that erode the supposed “charm” from the lives of those fortunate enough not to be touched by true calamity or affliction.

I made one such decision when I made you.

Listen: because I was a mistake, I know better than to call you one. You absolutely weren’t. You were no happy accident. You were no accident at all. You were, quite simply, a spectacular outcome. I want you to hear that, even now, even before you grow ears. You were a hope that burgeoned early.

I didn’t plan for you. But God knows I dreamed of you. Like I used to dream about an MFA, when it seemed I’d never be able to earn one. Like I dreamed of hitting all the milestones I somehow deferred, because I depended on the wrong people or believed the wrong things or thought myself unfit or incompetent to achieve them. You, like everything I’ve ever pursued but never truly envisioned myself attaining, were an iridescent abstraction, something beautiful in the background of a life I thought, maybe, someday, I’d be fortunate enough to attain.

Sometimes, you felt like an impossibility. I wept for you, longed for you from a pit so empty and echoing I was certain you’d never come and fill it.

When you were only a wanton hope, I romanticized you. I thought of making your bedroom a castle and taking you to grocery stores in a tiara and tulle skirt and purple galoshes or a cape, with a scepter, and cowboy boots. I thought of reading you Goodnight, Moon and Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Then, I thought of all the years you’d say you hated me, of all the desperate prayers that whatever you were doing behind your slammed bedroom door would be healthy and normal, not destructive and unconquerable.

Because I’ve known your father my whole adult life, he flitted through the foreground of every dream I ever had of you. I dreamed a two-parent home for you–as most women do–filled with money, teeming with love.

On the day I discovered you, growing–just days after my 30th birthday–this fortuitous wonder, this prospect whose depths my mind seems entirely incapable of plumbing–I began to name you. You were here, as certainly as I and your father are here. You are a part of the world, because you’ve been created.

I couldn’t bring myself to even entertain the idea of not bringing you from one precipice of being to the next. I couldn’t–I still can’t–see you as anything other than a beginning.

But for the first time ever, in my erstwhile “charmed” life, I have come to realize that I’ve always been right to assume that I’m not like other people. I am not strong and determined like all my single cousins who parent, or practical and wise like my cousin who chose another practical, wise person with whom to parent and partner. I’m not hopeful and happy and of a sound temperament, like the friends I’ve been fortunate enough to meet, who find the necessary grace to maintain relatively decent and workable relationships with difficult partners, for the sake of their children.

I’m not much of anything, except a woman who waits too long to do most things and not long enough to do others.

I don’t feel particularly cherished. I’m constantly paranoid about being someone’s burden. I feel resented, even by those who declare their undying love. I am this way because I’m a reader–of actions and deeds, as well as words.

I am not the type of person who would be able to keep your father’s sudden and utter unwillingness to raise you a secret until you’re old enough to handle it. And, because you are part me, you’d sense it even if I hid it with the stealth of a host of illusionists.

I am not the type of person who can guarantee you I’ll be industrious enough to earn enough as a single mother to avoid subjecting you to the world’s (and the government’s) crueler indignities.

I’m not even the type of person who knew, after nine years, what kind of man your father was, before I literally opened myself, to the possibility and the reality of you.

Even at 30 and even with a terminal degree, I am entirely unfit. Uninsured. Impractical. Immoral. Vaguely depressive.

Your life may not be as insulated from harm as mine.

And what worries me most, for you, is that none of this ever occurred to me when I longed for you here, in this home, in this life.

This barely occurs to me now, as you are here and I still want you so, though I know it would cost us both so much emotional deficit, so many rejections, so few days of light, in these first years.

It’s strange, to float about, untouched by much of anything at all, vaguely happy and only superficially sad, until making the one choice that has abruptly tethered me to a surface so hard and coarse and cold, so crumbling and concrete, that I wonder if we’ll ever know floating again.

South Korea

Story from LifeSiteNews. (H/T Andrew)

Excerpt:

The Republic of Korea has signaled its willingness to work to reverse a heavily pro-abortion culture through various measures, including beginning to enforce an abortion ban that has technically existed in the country for decades, in order to address the severe demographic implosion that threatens the country’s economic stability, Korean sources report.

[...]Official data from the Ministry of Health indicates that doctors perform 350,000 abortions per year, while they deliver on average just 450,000 babies, meaning 43.7 percent of pregnancies end in abortion.

However, the actual number of abortions may be at least five times the official estimate. According to the Korea Times, Rep. Chang Yoon-seok of the ruling Grand National Party said that a National Assembly inspection in October found that the number of illegal abortions in Korea exceeds 1.5 million a year or roughly 4,000 babies aborted per day.

If the National Assembly’s estimate is correct, the nation of 48 million commits approximately the same number of abortions as the United States, which has 300 million residents. Presuming the numbers of births recorded by the Health Ministry remains the same, that would mean approximately three out of four pregnancies in South Korea end in abortion.

Perhaps we need to undo anti-family policies like legalized abortion, unilateral divorce, high tax rates and a massive social programs. These policies discourage marrying and child-bearing, which prevent the creation of the next generation of taxpayers who must pay for these expensive welfare-state programs.

Canada

New research paper from the center-right C.D. Howe Institute. (H/T Andrew)

Excerpt:

The twin demographic challenges of an aging population and slow workforce growth will affect Canada’s Atlantic provinces more acutely than other regions of the country, according to a study released today by the C.D. Howe Institute. In “Stress Test: Demographic Pressures and Policy Options in Atlantic Canada,” authors Colin Busby, William B.P. Robson and Pierre-Marcel Desjardins warn that many years of low birthrates and youth outmigration mean that the Atlantic region faces diminished workforce growth and a fiscal squeeze as fewer taxpayers support a growing bill for public programs.

Massive numbers of elderly people retiring and very few young workers available to pay the taxes for their health care and retirement entitlements. Something has to give.

            This holiday is a bit different for me. Last year around this time, I was in a relationship…not a very good one, but nonetheless it was a relationship. This year, I am back to the drawing board…dateless and without a match for the holiday season. I have no one to snuggle up to near the Christmas tree and watch girlie flicks like Love Actually (which is one of my favorite movies, by the way). But does that mean it has to be a boring, hopeless holiday for me? Absolutely not! Here are a few tips that have helped me and are helping me stay lively and excited about this holiday season:

1. Forget the Past- Yeah, it would be nice to be able to share the holidays with someone, but the truth of the matter is, you broke up with your ex for a reason. The holidays should not be an excuse to dwell on the past or to give your ex a call. Just leave things be and appreciate and celebrate you this holiday season.
2. Don’t “tag along”- Sometimes out of pity, our friends and loved ones may invite us to events so we won’t be so lonely during this time of year. However, those events that were created primarily for couples may make you feel even more awkward and out of place. The best thing to do is pass on those events. If you are a single parent, play some music and sing and dance with your child. Trust me, it’s fun and you will be surprised what moves a one year old can come up with. (lol) If you’re not a parent, sit near your tree or fireplace and crack open a good book. There is nothing like delving into a story to take your mind off of your own problems. And by the way, a cup of hot chocolate makes the whole thing even better!
3. Give- People always ask me what makes me happy. My response is usually the same: my son, my family, and giving!!! I love to give to my community, especially to our men and women in the armed forces, law enforcement, EMS, firefighters, and so many more service men and women. The truth of the matter is that the economy has hit us all in many ways. Remember that the men and women you see fighting so hard to protect our rights and freedoms have families to. And we should be just as willing to support them, as they were willing to sacrifice for us. So, find a charity. You can even do something a bit simpler…if you see a soldier, veteran, police officer, etc…simply say, “thank you.” It warms their heart just knowing that you care. And knowing that you have touched their hearts, will make your holiday season a lot brighter.
4. Schedule a Holiday “Ladies Night Out” or “Night Out with the Guys”- You’re just hanging out with your buddies… no pressure or worries about feeling awkward. It would be a great opportunity to have a drink and just relax from a busy work week or month. It would feel great just to catch up with an old friend and talk about what your New Year’s Resolutions are. The opportunities are endless, but don’t get caught up in being alone. That’s why you have friends. But schedule your nights out with friends on a day when they have not already made plans with their significant other. Like you deserve not to feel awkward, they also deserve to enjoy a night with their love.
5. Write your Christmas List- We’re single, right? So we have one less gift to buy for the holidays. So, pamper yourself. What you would spend on your would-be significant other, spend on yourself. If your money is tight, try something new like start that blog you always wanted to do or begin writing that new book.

             Yes, the holidays are generally meant for couples, but for those of us who are single; we can still enjoy a calm, peaceful, and serene holiday season. Personally, I look forward to decorating the Christmas tree with my one year old while playing my Temptations CD (a family tradition). I also look forward in just sitting on the couch, staring at the Christmas tree, thanking God that He has blessed me to see yet another holiday.

 If you aren’t good at loving yourself, you will have a difficult time loving anyone, since you’ll resent the time and energy you give another person that you aren’t even giving to yourself. – Barbara De-Angelis

                As humans we have this innate ability to adapt and to be flexible. We are also very competitive and because we have this desire to thrive and be successful, we often place too much on ourselves to accomplish that ultimate goal. We live in a society where either you live up to societal standards of success or you are considered as nothing. We live in a society where every aspect of our life is dictated to us, and in order to be a functioning member of society we believe that we must adapt fully or risk being an outcast.

                I have come to realize that one of the hardest things in life is learning balance…learning how to push oneself without putting too much pressure on oneself. I have learned the importance of finding myself while living in the midst of chaos…everyone dictating to me what I should be or what they think of me. Yet despite it all, I have come to terms with loving myself….

                I have learned that as much as it hurts to fail or to make mistakes, that those failures and mistakes have created in me a stronger person; a person that is not only committed to success, but is also committed is seeing others around her succeed. Too often, we allow trials, hurt, and past betrayals to allow us to give up on life. And when I say give up, I don’t just mean suicide either. We create walls and barriers. We shut people out. We make others, good people, pay for the horrible actions of those from our past, all for the sake of….of…protecting what pride and love we have left.

                 But if we allow those events from our past to dictate the extent to which we love ourselves, and how we ultimately love others, what does that say about us? If we allow ourselves to be so burdened and taken by the things of this world, then what good are we? We must use our capability to adapt and be flexible to create a better person. We must always seek to be better people, and most importantly we must always seek to find ways to love ourselves despite our imperfections; for it is our imperfections which bring out the best in us. They allow us to find our weaknesses, so that we can make ourselves stronger. Our imperfections enable us to see the good in others, realizing that we also have issues and that no one is exempt from having their moment of anger or indifference.

                This quote especially touches my heart because it helped me to realize that although I am not perfect, I am still strong enough and good enough to love myself. And that love that I have for myself has helped me to open up my heart to people that I don’t even know. Isn’t that what being a Christian is about? Weren’t we put on earth to be our “brother’s keeper;” to help them when they’re down and to give a word of encouragement to the person we may be at odds with. We all have social obligations to love and care for our brother, but we must first learn to fully and whole heartedly love ourselves.

Story from LifeSiteNews.

Excerpt:

According to the report by Norway’s Institute for Family Policies abortion rates in Britain have leaped by a third among unmarried teenage girls and abortion is helping to age the population of Europe. Without a massive shift to family-friendly policies, the pattern of increased abortion and increasingly aging population will inevitably lead to the collapse of social welfare benefits, and, ultimately, to the bankruptcy of Europe’s cradle-to-grave socialist welfare state.

Presented to the European Parliament on Wednesday, the report said that the situation of the family in Europe is “a desolate panorama.”

“Europe is plunged in an unprecedented demographic winter and has become an elderly continent, with a large birth deficit, fewer marriages and more of them broken, homes emptying.”

“The aging population, critical birth-rate, escalating abortions, the collapse of marriage, the explosion in family breakups and the emptying of homes are the main problems of Europeans,” the 2009 Report on the Evolution of the Family in Europe said.

[...]The dropping European birth rate, the report says, with its concomitant increasing health and pension costs, will lead to increases in public expenditure to care for the aging population and the eventual collapse of public revenues, leading finally to the bankruptcy of the welfare state. The average birth rate of EU countries is now 1.38 per woman, well below the replacement rate of 2.1 births per woman, even in relatively fertile countries like France.

Without a significant shift in family policies in all EU countries, the report predicts the result will be “catastrophic.” Starting in 2010, the population of Europe overall will begin to fall from 499 million to 472 million by 2050 and every third inhabitant will be over 65.

[...]Other indicators show the number of marriages, especially first marriages, is down and divorce rates are up. There are 1 in 4 fewer marriages than in 1980 and the marriage rate has fallen in 9 out 10 countries. One out of every 3 children (36.5 per cent) is born outside marriage. In some countries the fall in marriage rate has been around 50 per cent since 1983 and there are over one million divorces a year, the equivalent to one marital breakdown every 30 seconds.

You can take a look at the actual numbers here. It’s a mess. This should convince fiscal conservatives to support social conservatism. Abortion and the destruction of two-parent families imposes massive social costs on society, and it grows government to deal with the fallout. Government pay for all the social programs, welfare, police, jails, etc. But it also has to regulate broken families via the courts. It makes no sense to abandon morality and expect government to stay the same – it will have to grow.

Maybe we shouldn’t have let the secular socialist elites run things? Could it be that believers in traditional morality and small government were in the right? Could it be that there is a price to pay for believing in materialism and naturalism, and jettisoning morality for hedonism?

Michael Siu - NOLA

For the most part, I believe I’ve been lucky with people. My family, though very different from me, has always accepted and supported me, though I haven’t made it easy. I never struggled with my education, taught by some extraordinary and some mediocre teachers. I’ve known my best friend since the second grade, since before I could speak English, and she has been incredibly influential. True, I had issues with my biological father, and that Belarus was in a post-Communist deficit when I lived there and we were quite poor by Western standards. It’s also true that though I lived and breathed ballet, it wreaked havoc on my body and mind as a teenager. Ballet exacerbated an eating disorder that lasted five years, which I sometimes abhorred and wanted to be rid of, but which appeared to support me through all I was afraid of. Eating disorders are not unusual among teenage girls, or teenage ballet dancers, or teenage ballet-dancing overachievers, but it ate away at my personality, filling the shell of the person I expected myself to be. Though I walled myself against most, including my family, there were several people in whom I confided. There was the aforementioned best friend, whom I continue to thank for my life, there was my male best friend who deserves a blog entry of his own, and there was my high school sweetheart who was my constant companion.

Because he was always with me, he (I’ll refer to him as E) witnessed the loveliest and most sordid parts of me. Years after the eating disorder passed, when we were separating, he confessed that at times, he felt that he was not allowed to have his own issues because mine were such a burden. I don’t disagree. A relationship with a person so wrapped in their own problems must be impossible at times. I could hardly have a relationship with myself, so it’s surprising that he could with me. Nearly three years since my eating normalized and since I began to reconstruct “me”, I cannot relate to who I was as a teenager. I’ve changed. I’ve grown up. I’ve earned many responsibilities that I’m honored to shoulder. However, E and I separated months ago, and the litigation that followed has made the last five months the most trying of my life.

There’s a separate standard society holds for mothers and fathers, especially for young ones. The woman must be a good mother and she must care-take to excess, cooking, cleaning, and keeping house beyond basic requirements. She must live up to the standards of the modern liberated woman, with education and work under her belt. She additionally must nurture the father of her children, keeping him around. This may not be every woman’s experience, but it was mine. On the other hand, the good father must occasionally play with his children, read to them once in a while, and be educated to the requirements of his job, bringing home a paycheck. Everything else is a bonus.

When E and I first separated, I had a sense of liberation and fear, never having lived alone. A month went by, and due to the buildup of several factors, I crashed over the course of a weekend. I did several things wrong, and for a moment, I was not sure whether I could shoulder my responsibilities. Between E and another friend (there are, by the way, old blog entries that describe both of them – both of which are naively appreciating of both individuals), the situation was blown out of proportion. My punishment lay in not seeing my son for two weeks, for factors which the court dismissed two months later (due largely to my best friend’s words). For that time span, not only was I separated from the person dearest to me, but I had to somehow patch the vulnerabilities that my son’s father and a friend that I had allowed to live with me both pounced upon. The time passed, I continued to breathe and to heal.

Being single was something to grow used to. Logistically, I was now living on a single income, and when Z was with me, I had more juggling to do simply to prepare him a meal. It was also emotionally different, in that returning to an empty house, I had nobody to rehash the dregs of the day with. I therefore bounced through a series of short-lived relationships, because a voice on the phone, no matter whose, was better than none. After being around others for the majority of my life, “alone” had to be disentangled from “lonely”.

I’ve been single for nearly six months now, and it is beginning to feel more natural than living with another. Surprisingly, my house is unusually clean, I’ve begun to cook for myself, and I manage the financial side splendidly. I’ve also become a better parent, paying far more attention to my child, his development, his eating, and his emotional state. Rather than passively speaking Russian to him, I’ve brought him several Russian books from New York, and each evening, he accompanies me on the couch, and we read over warm apple cider. I’ve breached small childhood illnesses by myself, transitioned him into new routines, and have held myself together through frustrations. I enjoy and treasure the routine of it.

The single factor that remains shaky is trust. I do trust myself in my decisions, as well as trusting my parenting. However, beyond a select few individuals, I hardly trust the people around me. Throughout the litigation, E has selected particularly ugly bits from my life, including my issues as a teenager, displaying them as examples of why I am a bad parent. The most recent is a set of medical records from when I was 17, when he was my crutch and when the eating disorder was at its worst. I’ve begun to wonder whether trust has any relevance any more… whether words like “conscience” and “soul” are fictions. To be told by the person who meant most that I am an embarrassment to my child is painful, to say the least, especially when on a model’s pay in an easing recession, I cover our living expenses, all childcare, and even small luxuries and outings. And yet, though I know the words are loaded to sting, I’ve yet to harden myself to them, picking them apart for a grain of truth. He knows this, and he therefore utters them, and I know that this is with a specific intent.

We were together for five years, and I define romantic love by what he meant to me. I made mistakes, especially toward the end, which hurt him terribly, but I don’t believe that this is carte blanche to punish me. There has to be an end to it. There must be a point at which I’ve paid enough penance and I’m allowed to live without looking over my shoulder. There will me. Either the difficulties will abate or I’ll grow more callous to them, but I am still waiting.

Michael Siu - NOLA - an oldie that I call "Boogieman"

Years ago, I came upon the following passage by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, and while I can hardly relate my situation to imprisonment in a Gulag, I do understand the feeling he describes.

Freedom to Breathe
translated by Michael Glenny

A shower fell in the night and now dark clouds drift across the sky, occasionally sprinkling a fine film of rain.

I stand under an apple tree in blossom and I breathe. Not only the apple tree but the grass round it glistens with moisture; words cannot describe the sweet fragrance that pervades the air. I inhale as deeply as I can, and the aroma invades my whole being; I breathe with my eyes open, I breathe with my eyes closed–I cannot say which gives me the greater pleasure.

This, I believe, is the single most precious freedom that prison takes away from us:  the freedom to breathe freely, as I now can. No food on earth, no wine, not even a woman’s kiss is sweeter to me than this air steeped in the fragrance of flowers, of moisture and freshness.

No matter that this is only a tiny garden, hemmed in by five-story houses like cages in a zoo. I cease to hear the motorcycles backfiring, radios whining, the burble of loudspeakers. As long as there is fresh air to breathe under an apple tree after a shower, we may survive a little longer.

Story from the Wall Street Journal. (H/T Andrew)

Excerpt:

Dr. Braun’s group found that at 21 days, the fatherless animals had less dense dendritic spines compared to animals raised by both parents, though they “caught up” by day 90. However, the length of some types of dendrites was significantly shorter in some parts of the brain, even in adulthood, in fatherless animals.

“It just shows that parents are leaving footprints on the brain of their kids,” says Dr. Braun, 54 years old.

The neuronal differences were observed in a part of the brain called the amygdala, which is related to emotional responses and fear, and the orbitofrontal cortex, or OFC, the brain’s decision-making center.

[...]The balance between these two brain parts is critical to normal emotional and cognitive functioning, according to Dr. Braun. If the OFC isn’t active, the amygdala “goes crazy, like a horse without a rider,” she says. In the case of the fatherless pups, there were fewer dendritic spines in the OFC, while the dendrite trees in the amygdala grew more and longer branches.

A preliminary analysis of the degus’ behavior showed that fatherless animals seemed to have a lack of impulse control, Dr. Braun says. And, when they played with siblings, they engaged in more play-fighting or aggressive behavior.

In a separate study in Dr. Braun’s lab conducted by post-doctoral researcher Joerg Bock, degu pups were removed from their caregivers for one hour a day. Just this small amount of stress leads the pups to exhibit more hyperactive behaviors and less focused attention, compared to those who aren’t separated, Dr. Braun says. They also exhibit changes in their brain.

The basic wiring between the brain regions in the degus is the same as in humans, and the nerve cells are identical in their function. “So on that level we can assume that what happens in the animal’s brain when it’s raised in an impoverished environment … should be very similar to what happens in our children’s brain,” Dr. Braun says.

Read the whole thing.

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My first Halloween as a mama… What a responsibility! I decided that Keziah would be a Ring-tailed Lemur for Halloween. She has been waking at night and since this primate is nocturnal, I thought it was appropriate. I like that they are mostly female dominate as well. This will probably be the only Halloween that I get to choose her costume.

                I am quickly starting to learn that one of the hardest things about being a single parent is dealing with the lack of sensitivity many people show when discussing your situation. I have been appalled by many statements people have made, assuming they know about my situation. I think one of the worst things to hear is someone telling you that you put yourself in that situation.

                No one asks to be abused. No one wants to be physically or emotionally abused. I was young and was vulnerable at the time to manipulative tactics because of other issues that were going on in my life. I was not seeking to stop myself from progressing. Too often, people feel that a woman has the capability of just walking away. It’s not like that. It took years for me to develop the strength and courage to not accept the condition I was in. It took time for me to develop the strength that I now possess. Life is a learning process. We all go through different experiences. Those experiences help to strengthen us, to make us better individuals.

                And as tough as some of those experiences were, they helped me develop character. I refuse to feel ashamed of my past. I refuse to allow someone to make me feel as though I am less than another human being, because I chose to keep my child under harsh circumstances. I maybe single, but I am strong. I have learned from my mistakes and learning from those mistakes has made me a better person.

               I have read so many books about being the “perfect woman” until I have just become sick of them. In every book, the author portrays their take on what a woman should be. I seldom read about an author encouraging a woman to find herself. We live in a society where gender roles and the traditional role of the wife and mother is forced upon women; meanwhile, the extreme opposite suggests that women should forget family life altogether to pursue her own goals.

                Of course, I am a woman of balance. And I feel that a healthy woman would take a little from both traditional and radical ideologies to suit her and her situation.  So, I came up with a list of the 8  most important things I have learned since being a single mom. My son is only one, so I still have a lot to learn. However, all of the sleepless, lonely nights…nights where my tears soaked my pillow, gave me an opportunity to re-evaluate my situation. It gave me the chance to assess how far I have come and where I intend to go. I have learned the following:

1. IT IS OKAY TO SAY “NO”- As single moms, we have so many people demanding so many things from us. Our children need our constant attention, and we have to fulfill roles at school and work. We also have to balance our social and personal lives. Because of our ability to be flexible, many family members and friends will ask you for favors that you simply cannot do. It is okay to say no. Remember that in order for you to be there for your child, you have to be healthy and kicking. Prioritizing is key. Some people and issues may have to wait until you are ready to deal with them.
2. GET RID OF DRAMA- Parenting has taught young moms and dads that you need to grow up…AND GROW UP QUICK! While we are working hard to sustain a life for ourselves and children, there will be some people who will simply try to get in the way with their immaturity and nonsense. It is okay to leave them alone. And you do not have to explain your feelings to anyone unless you feel it is necessary. Being a dedicated, successful single parent requires that we maintain a level of maturity that is greater than the maturity level of many of our peers. It is okay. Sometimes, you will find that you will only have a friend or two that you can truly rely on.
3. NO “BABY MAMA” OR “BABY DADDY” DRAMA- It is best to articulate clear barriers for your child’s mother or father. Do not allow them to run over you. If you are the primary caregiver of your child, you have rights. If necessary, you should get the courts involved to maintain order. The last thing you want your child to be around is argumentative parents, who cannot get along. If the child’s mother or father clearly has no desire to do anything for their flesh and blood, then they have no reason to contact you. Maintain control. Be an advocate for your child and do what is in their best interest. (Laws on child custody and child support vary from state to state. It is always best to do research or consult legal counsel before you make any legal decisions regarding your child(ren).
4. GIVE YOUR HEART TIME TO HEAL- After break-ups, many single moms rush into relationships to fill a void. It is important that you are able to fulfill your own needs. It also important that you are in the right frame of mind when entering a relationship, to avoid unnecessary issues in the future. If you think you have found someone to be with, then take it slow. If he is for you, he will be there when you’re ready.
5. SEPARATE MALE FRIENDS FROM ROMANTIC INTERESTS- This is a very complicated topic, but in general, many women make the mistake of assuming that friendships are something more than what they are. This could also cause much hurt and pain for both parties. A friend is only a friend. Guys see friendships and relationships very differently. To protect your heart, be careful in how you approach a friendship and a relationship. Similarly, do not allow your child to become too attached to a romantic partner. Children attach to people very quickly. If the relationship goes sour, you do not want your child hurt in the process.
6. STAY TRUE TO YOURSELF- In high school, I was anorexic because a guy I liked said that I needed to lose weight. It is important for you to have a positive image of yourself. Do not allow a man to dictate to you how you should look. As long as you maintain a healthy lifestyle by eating right and working out, then you are doing well. If the skinny jeans weren’t meant for you, leave them in the closet. Your health is more important than appeasing a potential mate. Also, focusing on building your career and education is a great way for single moms to stay on target.
7. FIND WAYS TO GET STRENGTH- I am a Christian and I have a very strong relationship with God. No…I do not lay hands on people to pray over them. I am not a religious fanatic. I do not have a church home; however, I am able to get the strength I need to endure the week because I am able to go to God on a daily basis to talk with him. Regardless of your religious preferences, it is important to have a way for you to get strength and encouragement during your darkest moments. You can find friends to get together with to do a Bible Study or pray together. Whatever you choose to do, make sure it is genuine and sincere.
8. ENJOY LIFE!!!!- Life is short. Life is hard. But being able to set aside your stressors to enjoy what you have been given is important for your overall health and wellbeing. Take the time to watch a movie or hang out with friends. Laughter is good for the heart and friendship is good for the soul.

I have new roomies, temporarily, for a month. They (a single mama and her teenage daughter) moved in today. I spent the day helping her clean out the house she’s moving out of. She’ll be downsizing to a condo rental and found a great deal, but the current tenants won’t be moved until the end of November. I live in a 3 br condo with just me and my daughter and we’ve grown accustomed to having a good amount of space. It does get a bit tight when I share my space with others. If the economy continues to do what it is doing and individuals continue to lose jobs and are not able to find new ones, I think families are going to start stacking up on each other. Its interesting to me, really, that we get comfortable with so much space that when others move in we feel crowded. There are some cultures where there are multiple generations living in one very tiny home. Comfortably. What makes them comfortable and us so uncomfortable? Is it because we have so much STUFF? And we don’t have room in our lives for actual PEOPLE? For family? Friends? What if we invited relationship back into our lives and stopped depending on STUFF to fill the gaps? I know that stuff has had a heavy emotional pull on me for a lot of years. In the past year or so I’ve felt compelled to downsize significantly. Simplify. Its not an easy thing to do. It becomes easy and routine to just get more stuff. Cool stuff. Neat stuff. Fun stuff. Decorative stuff. Smelly stuff. What if we spent the money we spend on this stuff and blessed someone else with it? How much satisfaction do we really get from buying new stuff anyway? I know I am happy with new stuff for a short time. But when I’m able to help someone with a tangible need, I think about it for a very long time. It touches my heart. Since I’ve been a single mama, I’ve had blessings poured over me over and over. Hard to receive sometimes, but I’ve learned to humble myself and just say thank you. I’m so grateful. But what this has done is inspire me to pay it forward. I’ve not had to buy a single clothing item for my daughter since birth and she’s almost 3. While difficult to get rid of her things sometimes (because it means she’s not an infant anymore and I want to hold onto her little bittiness for as long as possible), it makes it all worthwhile to pass it down to another single mama who has a little bitty and needs it just as much as I did. I so love to share this way. I just donated my daughter’s crib after failed attempts at trying to sell it, to a single mama who has fostering children placed on her heart. What a huge undertaking, but foster children need a lot of love and she’s a good mama to do that. So I was grateful for the opportunity to support her heart’s desire. Hopefully some day soon she’ll have a little bitty sleeping in that crib, slathering them with lotsa mama love that they are missing from their biological family for whatever reason.

Anyway, I was happy for the distraction with cleaning my friend’s rental house today. Anything to keep my mind occupied from the current heart sorrow. I am on a roller coaster, for sure, but for the first time ever, I’m actually just allowing myself to feel and process my emotions. Even in distraction, it doesn’t shut my thinking down and the condition of my heart. It keeps the intensity down a bit, but whatever emotion I may have still creeps out. I was okay all morning and when we took a load of stuff to her storage unit, it hit me suddenly. The tears sprang up and I was very sad. I seriously do not know how in the world we are going to do this thing. I can’t just make a decision. Something I’ve finally learned how to do, though, is just coast with it. I really DON’T have to make a decision right now. There’s nothing that is pressing on me to do so. I’m not leaving tomorrow for a long term missions trip. Nobody is going anywhere right now. So I have found a little bit of comfort in that. After I cried it out a little bit, I received an impression in my heart that there’s plenty to be done before I am sent anywhere. He has about 8 years before his kids are growed up and out of the house. My daughter will only be 11 then. Realistically, unless I’m married, I couldn’t take her with me on a long term missions assignment until she was older, anyway. God CAN do anything he wants and is very creative that way. But I don’t have any sense that I’m going to be sent anywhere anytime soon. While I’m waiting and living and going on short term missions trips, God may be working in his heart. Perhaps in time he will develop the desire to go with me. I don’t know. I’m an idealist, though and like to paint pictures of what it could look like. What it should look like. What I want/desire it to look like. But God is working on me to tame that idealistic viewpoint because pretty much everything I have ever imagined or visualized has never turned out the way I expected. Usually better. Because my limited and meager understanding of things really puts significant limitations and a tiny box around the possibilities. I’d like to open up the box of possiblities and just go with the flow of it. SO NOT EASY for me to be still and allow things to unfold in the beautiful way that they do.

So, this evening I have a great deal of peace with things. Yesterday in my sorrow, I felt like things would have to end. Today I believe they don’t have to. It may change again tomorrow. I’ll let you know thought. Cuz I want to write it all down.