My Schizophrenic Grandma

A Story about Grandma Crazy
Recently my Grandma has been diagnosed with, well to put it simply, being crazy in the head. I know I should be more sensitive but looking back at my childhood with her I see how certain experiences with her have shaped who am I today. I wish that I could say they shaped me into being a great woman or wise woman but I find that the things I experienced with her have made me skeptical and insecure. Qualities I have to learn to control as to not let them control me.
The sun rose and set in my Grandma and Grandpa, MawMaw and PawPaw. Ok, honestly my PawPaw! He never got upset with me, always rescued me from mom and dad saying no and would drive to Illinois to get me at the drop of a hat! I think that was the best part. Even when I was young I knew my grandpa was a hard worker driving trucks for long hours and the fact that he would still drive all the way to pick me up was something I never took for granted. I knew my Grandma loved me even though some of things she did were a bit odd. One time she bought me Mrs. Pott’s clip on earrings. I LOVED them! Yet as much as I loved them and loved her for buying them for me I could never bring them home. This was the way it was with all my stuff. I could never bring them home. Even though, up to that point, she had never been crass with me, I knew on the inside I never wanted to even attempt breaking that rule because she scared me.
I don’t remember any weird experiences till around 9 or 10 years old. It seemed around that time my memories of Grandpa seem to fade. He became more of a passing shadow in the house spending more time out in the barn alone than around my Grandma. I didn’t think it was strange though. I just assumed he liked to smoke and tinker around in his own space. I understood. Not having any siblings close to my age I grew to like my personal space also. When Grandma and Grandpa were together they were not kind to each other. Grandma picked on him. Telling him he really needed to read his bible more or that he put his cup on the counter that was reserved only for folding clothes. Grandpa always seemed defeated when she was around, like a puppy with it’s tail between it’s legs. Sometimes, rarely, he would stand up to her and fire back but that never made any progress and eventually he would retreat to his retreat, the barn.
It was during these times alone in the house with Grandma I look back and realize that she didn’t act like a grandma should. Not that kids should have free reign in their Grandparents house but at least they should feel loved and most of all safe. I remember one morning I woke up and she asked, “Crystal, how would you like to go shopping? You can pick out any outfit you like!” I was over the moon! She was not one to go and spend money on anyone. Gifts were mostly reserved for Christmas. At which time she would go in the basement and pick out years of hoarded free samples and sale items bought and saved for no specific person in mind.
I was so excited as we pulled into the shopping center. We were there all afternoon. I picked out a ton of outfits, none of which she approved of. After hours of shopping we agreed on an outfit and I couldn’t wait to get home and show mom and dad. Hopefully they were picking me up because I was sure I would have to leave it at her house. We were all set to head to the registers when she turned to me and said, “Now what I want you to do is go get this 2 sizes smaller. This will be your “goal” outfit. After you lose weight you can wear it.” I felt a rush of all different emotions. At first I was confused, then angry but mostly embarrassed. I couldn’t have been more than 10 or 11 years old at the time and I was not fat! As a matter of fact I have searched every family picture and I cannot find one single photo of me being fat ever. I never told anyone this story, not even my parents until just this year because I was so humiliated. I still can’t figure out what possessed her to say and do something so out of the blue with no rhyme or reason. Something so hurtful and lasting. I was forever aware from that moment on of my body and it’s supposed “unacceptable” state. To this day I have never felt confident or acceptable in my body.
Grandma always had silly things she would do. I never thought twice about them. She would run the kitchen faucet for a split second and flick her finger through the stream of water and shut off the tap. She always stared out the window whispering to her self as she did it. She also talked to herself under her breath throughout the day. I thought for many years that she was just running through her to do list out loud until I started to listen more carefully. She was carrying on a conversation with some invisible being. I never quite understood what she was saying but most of the time she was arguing, fighting or contemplating something with this person only she could see.
A story that haunts me as much, possibly more, than anything she did is the nights she would wake me up to pray. She would wake me out of a dead sleep to pray at 3AM. Grandpa was never around for this. I assume he was asleep. She would tell me that we needed to pray in a tone so urgent I always thought something bad had happened. We would get down on our knees in the living room and she would being to pray so fast and frantic I could barely keep up with what she was saying. I am not a superstitious person. I am the definition of logical, everything that I have experienced has had a rational explanation, except for these 3am prayer sessions. I would crouch down as close to the floor as I could get and bury myself as deep as I could into my Grandma’s side. There was some evil feeling in that house and specifically that hallway. It wasn’t a person just a cloud of black, evil hopelessness that watched us, sleuthing around, waiting. I don’t know what for but waiting and watching. I know it sounds crazy and I’m sure that there was never something even there but the way she prayed and the tones she used scared me and I will never forget those prayer sessions. To this day I hate 3AM on the clock!
The reason I began to truly know that my Grandma was no longer someone I cared to have a relationship with came one summer camping trip. We were packing the camper late into the evening. She always did things late at night. As a matter of fact I can’t think of one time I ever saw the woman call it a night and actually go to her bed. I believe I was around 14 years at the time. She asked me to get a jar of spaghetti sauce out of the cabinet. I looked up and down that cabinet and never saw a jar. She yelled at me like I’ve never heard her before. “Now Crystal, I told you it is right under the top shelf!!” She told me to get out of there she will do it herself. I went to the room I was staying in and did not come out the rest of the night. Grandpa was in the barn so he had no idea of what happened and I never told him. I know it doesn’t sound like a big deal but the way she went from sweet and Grandma-like to hateful and even using a different voice scared me and deeply hurt my feelings. There were two other of these same incidences on the same trip that turned me away from her. The final straw that trip was her telling me that my Dad and family were going to Hell when we died because we weren’t real Christians because we did not read the King James Version of the Bible. Grandpa pulled me aside that trip and tried to explain that I should take everything Grandma does with a grain of salt. I felt for the first time that Grandpa was no longer a safe person. That he would not stand up for me. I cried myself to sleep every night till my parents got to the campground where I spilled all of my stories. Dad confronted Grandma but she played the kind Grandma card with him.
I no longer wished to spend time at their house anymore. I went for the holidays where I mostly smiled and avoided talking to my grandma. As time went on I buried all those stories and more. It wasn’t until last summer after Grandpa died I felt it would be right by him to call her and check in on her. I remember the last phone conversation I had with her was great! We talked about my pregnancy and the fears and worries I had. We talked about my son Jace. I felt for the first time since I was very young that I had a grandma again. It was all short lived. She began to lose it. Claiming my Uncle was breaking into her house and bugging things. It became such an out of control mess I decided it was better to leave her alone so that I was not pulled into any of her hallucinations and accusations.
This past month was my breaking point. My sister went to lunch with my grandma, Mary. My aunt was there also. During the conversation Mary asked my sister how I was doing with my weight, in front of my aunt. My sister did a great job at redirecting but none the less all these years later she finds the one vulnerable part of heart and stabs through it as hard as she can. It for this reason I no longer care to have a relationship with her. I understand she is sick but she will not admit it and help herself. She will no longer hurt me. I now have no grandparents left and this is very sad for me.
The shining light in all this is my parents. If you could take a minute and dream up storybook grandparents then you will see my parents. They already in two short years have out down what four grandparents did in a lifetime. I am thankful that my children will experience love, confidence and security when they are left with their grandparents. That no matter their physical size it’s the size of their heart that matters.

What do you fantasize about?

Ok, I'll go first. Square footage, parking spaces, and greeting teams. Probably not what you were expecting right? Currently Great Lakes Church is waiting to hear back from the school district about the potential of meeting at a school. This school has the potential for our church to grow to upwards of 5,000 people and we would also be able to meet in one room all together instead of separate theaters. Why is this important? One reason, the community. We will be able to reach so many more single mom's, teens, marriages that are struggling and hurting people that simply need one thing, Jesus.

Great Lakes is great at making church a place that people can come and not feel intimidated. In short they make it easy to go to church. The volunteers are really the ones who make this possible. The smiling faces of the greeters in the parking lot waving even in the most brutal of Wisconsin winters. The people who work with kids and help parents feel at ease knowing their children are in a safe loving environment. A larger meeting place, no matter where it ends up being, will only allow more people in the community to experience church in this way.


These are the things that keep me awake at night. So pray with me that God opens doors for our church to find the perfect meeting place.

Counting my blessings

I really should be in bed right now. Sleep is a precious commodity these days and seeing that everyone in the house is passed out I should join them. As I watch my wonderful husband asleep while holding my also sleeping, newborn daughter I am counting all the things I am grateful for.

We have moved from Chicago to Seattle and then from Seattle to Kenosha in a two year time span. We have lived in three different houses and had two children in that same time span. If you were to ask me at what point I was happiest I would say now. If I could capture this moment in time I would freeze it forever. It has nothing to do with money or security. Nothing to do with the house we live in but everything to do with having found a place in life where we feel peace. We are so excited to be back home and at a church that we couldn't love more!

As I look to the future I hope we can continue to put down roots where we are at. I hope that I can be a loving and supportive wife and kind and gentle mother. My biggest prayer at the moment is that we will find the perfect location down the road for our church to continue to grow and meet at. We are very blessed to be at Great Lakes and can't wait to see what God has in store for it!

I could go on about all the things God has blessed us with over the last year but I am exhausted and dreaming of sleep. Tomorrow is my first day alone with both kids and a healing c-section so I am signing off till next time!

Ms. Payton Jaye born January 7th, 2011 at 12:01 PM 7.3pounds and 19 and 3/4 inches


Grandpa, Jace and Payton

It's been a while...

Wow, it's been a while since I last wrote and a LOT has changed! I've sort of lost focus of weight loss goals as suddenly a lot more became priority. Sadly, we are no longer in Seattle. Sad, I LOVE LOVE LOVE my Seattle family and miss them SOOO much but our lives have taken us back home. Matt is a pastor at a church in Wisconsin with his former Seattle boss Dave. Dave planted Great Lakes Church in his home town of Kenosha (yes the same Kenosha Weezer is from!) last year. It was a FAST transition! One minute we're vacationing at home for Christmas and by March 1st back living there! The move comes with mixed feelings strictly because we are living with family in IL till we move to Kenosha at the end of May and it's hard to get a feel for what our real new life will be. The church is awesome and we're stoked to be a part of it!

Ok, I've put it off long enough. Back to the reason I started the blog. Well, we began packing in late January and as moving day came closer we began eating fast food as our silverware, dishes and pans disappeared into the sea of boxes that began to overtake our apartment.
Sadly, it only got worse on the road! Nothing but junk, coffee and fast food...again! Now that we're home and living with family you would think it would be easy to start eating well but we still don't have a kitchen and so it's tough! Trust me I'm only getting started with my excuses! Hold on cause here come a bunch more! Matt, Jace and I are sharing a room and needless to say, none of us are getting any sleep so I am literally exhausted all the time on top of living out of a suitcase for the past month and another 2 more to go, I'm WAY out of sorts! Life is a little tricky right now but I'm crossing my fingers it will be worth it, Ok, one more thing, we're staying with Matt's parents and I would love to pop in my headphones and go for a walk with the baby but chances are I would get shanked from behind and left for dead! Ok, maybe that's a little dramatic but for real I think I'll skip it just in case!

I did debate some caffeine pills this morning while shopping but the truth of the matter is that I really need to become more disciplined! I need to go to bed at a reasonable time so I am rested and ready to deal with life when my son deems it time to start a new day at 7 AM everyday. I have never been a routined. As a matter of fact I would go as far as to say that if I see routine coming I turn and run as fast as possible. The idea of the same thing happen at the same time everyday terrifies me! What a boring life that would be for me! Now, I know that there are benefits to this kind of a life but for real?...I could not live like that! I am disciplined on important things like paying the bills, tithing and taking a shower but outside of that it's pretty much a free for all. The only thing I want to do EVERYDAY, REGULARLY is love my two boys and do all I can do to support them and make them the best they can be. This is what I live for!

Well, I'm exhausted and I'm going to wrap up by saying life is NUTS right now and I wouldn't have it ANY other way! I love our insane random schedule but for the next 7 days I am going to try and implement one change. I am going to try and go to bed no later than 10 and see if I can feel more energized! Peace out girl scout!

ENTRY 6: Nothing to do with weight.

This entry has nothing to do with weight. It has everything to do with my life though. My life has forever changed. The world is a little more empty than it was when I went to bed last night. My grandfather has left us.

My grandfather was one of my favorite people growing up. Why? Because he never told me no. One of my second favorite people growing up, my dad. Why? Because he also rarely told me no. I've never liked that word and, I still loath it! As a matter of fact I once told my mom, who did tell me no, "Don't say me no!"

I was the first grandchild on my Dad's side. I pretty much got away with anything. Ok, I did get away with anything. Most of my memories of my grandpa revolve around food. Every Thanksgiving grandpa made brown sugar glazed carrots which I now make every Thanksgiving. He taught me how to cook them. We would stop at Cracker Barrel every time we headed out to the camp grounds and once we got there we cook around the campfire. My number one favorite memory of my grandpa was his cheese sandwiches. This was the recipe:

White Bread
Miracle Whip - but never scrape the leftover Miracle Whip off the knife on to the rim of the container!!
Lettuce from the special green Tupperware container
American Cheese from the Deli counter
*Dad always made sure to triangle the sandwich and put the chips in the middle of the two halves.

One bag of Regular Lays

One Can of Coca Cola

It doesn't count if you don't follow the recipe exactly! This is and will always be my go to comfort!!

There is a famous and slightly over used phrase that says, "You don't know what you got till it's gone." I always knew I loved my grandpa but I'm not sure I knew how much until now. Grandpa is the first dear person in my life that I have lost. No, I didn't call him everyday and I didn't get to see him much since I moved to Seattle but I always knew he was there. I knew that if I called he would answer the phone. I knew that any time there was a family function he would be there to support me. He even came to my baby shower this summer when I came back to Chicago. Now that security is gone. I know that when I go to Grandma's he will not be there to answer the door and he will not be there to walk me out to the door. My grandpa was a man of few words. Most of the time I just liked to sit by him.

This week I watched how being strong willed can be a double edged sword. It got grandpa where he was in life by never giving up through his trials but I also watched he fought death and refused to get up. Just yesterday he tried get out of bed. He could barely talk but as he pulled his cancer ridden body up off the bed he said, "I need to get out of here. I want to go home." He couldn't have walked if he tried. It was terrible to watch because you knew that in his mind he was still 25 and had so much he wanted to live to see but his poor body just couldn't keep going anymore. It had done all it could and was checking out. I watched as death overwhelmed and consumed a the body of a person who did not want to go. Death is an ugly thing that doesn't care about your race, gender or religion. It is merciless and heartless.

I've heard people around me say a lot that, "He's happy now. He's not in pain. He's gone to a better place where you'll see him again." I think that people say that to medicate the pain they feel. If we were all honest with ourselves we don't know what REALLY happens after death. If we all knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that there was a Heaven and we were going there no one would be afraid of death. There would be no need for faith. Faith is simply belief that is not based on proof. My Grandpa loved God and I know for a fact that if there is definitely a Heaven after death that Grandpa IS there. I hurt for grandpa because I know he was scared. He always struggled with his faith. He believed in God but he wasn't sure God believed in him.

I struggle with Grandpas death because I know he fought it out of fear and sadness. Had he felt complete and happy looking back on his life I would probably be ok but I will always remember his death as restless. I know they say time heals and I hope that's true as we learn to live with a new sense of "normal".



Dad and Grandpa

ENTRY 5: A one of a kind art piece

Ok, so I'm a little behind. Last Tuesday I made it to the gym! Yep, I climbed the wall and conquered it! It was awesome!! My goal was to do a light walk on the elliptical. Nothing big, no expectations means no disappointments. I end up running 2.1 miles with a 10 warm up and a 5 minute cool down to equal a total of 30 minutes. I did a VERY quick set of chest presses, 5 sets of 10 and biked for 2+ miles. I felt great and best of all I wasn't even achy and sore the next day! It was the best! All I could think of was Jace, and how I was being a healthy example to him! It felt amazing!! I can't wait to get back. Unfortunately, it has been a busy week and I haven't made it back but I am shooting for tomorrow!!

Here's some of my workout tunes among MANY more:
Boom Boom Pow - Black Eyed Peas
This is why I'm hot - Mims
Snap yo fingers - Lil Jon
LoveGame - Lady Gaga
Supermassive Black Hole - Muse
Imma be - Black Eyed Peas
Sweet Dreams - Beyonce
Run this Town - Jay-Z
Crank that - Soulja Boy
Walk it out - Unk
Evanescence
P.O.D.
One Time -Justin Bieber
Whatcha Say - Jason Derulo

As I was running I was thinking of a terrible story I heard. A model and former Miss Argentina died from a surgery to have butt implants put in. It was so sad. She was so beautiful as she was.


It got me to thinking about my what I want to look like. I don't have a number in mind that I am working toward. I'm not shooting to see 125 on the scale. As a matter of fact, I don't even own a scale. I know roughly what I weight and that is good enough for me. I tend to obsess over numbers, whether they're about money or weight, I obsess! I am working toward a feeling. That is more important to me than a number. I want to feel comfortable in my clothes and in my body. That is my goal.

As for that model, it reminded me that God made us all unique even if that means we're not all 6'5 120 pounds. I know that God did not make me to be 60 ponds overweight but I also am realistic and content enough to know that I will never look like a Victoria's Secret model. At some point we have to draw a line and separate fiction from reality. Don't misinterpret what I'm saying though. I have nothing against people who have cosmetic surgery. I have quite a few friends who have it done and if I could afford it I'd be under the knife right now rather than blogging! For a lot of us though, like me, that is not an option and I need to be ok with that.

Ephesians 2:10 of the New Living Translation Bible says, "We are God's masterpiece.." I have to remind myself that when I look into the mirror and put myself down that I am putting God and His talent down. I am God's masterpiece and like any fine art it should be appreciated not put down. I have not been taking care of myself like I should, like a good curator at the Louvre would take care of the Mona Lisa. Like any good piece of art it must be cared for and protected. That is what I am attempting to do. I am cleaning up a piece of fine art and learning to preserve it a safe and healthy environment just as you would do for a one of a kind Monet or VanGough.

ENTRY 4: One in the same

Tonight so my thoughts are racing through my head it's like standing in the median of a busy highway. To start, I am finding that a lot of women are reading this blog and receiving something from it. That's great! This was never my intention but I am so glad people know they are not alone. Maybe it's not weight you struggle with. Maybe it's anger, jealousy, trying to keep up with the jones or gossip. Whatever it is we all have our personal struggles, many, more than one, but it's good to know that no matter what the struggle is, it's so much better to go at it with someone else. So, thanks for walking through this struggle with me! If you have a struggle find a good friend to go through it with and if you can't find one let me know, I always have room for one more friend!!

When I began writing this blog it was to be 100% about my weight struggles but I am finding that it would be impossible to not share things that are going on in my life as life and weight are one in the same for me. There are some things I obviously can't write about as it would not be fair for me to put other people's business on the internet for the whole world to read but I'll share what I can.

The Holidays seem to come with mixed reviews by all. Some people LOVE them. They look forward to buying presents, eating good food and spending time with their beloved family. For others the Holidays are a time of pain and depression. Not looking forward to them but to their end. It's ok if you're the latter. I would fall somewhere into the middle this year. Again, for some reasons I can't write about but also because this will be my last Christmas with my wonderful grandfather. This is so incredibly hard for me and my family and being 2000 miles from home has made it even harder. It is probably the only time since I moved to Seattle that I've struggled with being away from home. Even having my first baby here was not as hard. Combined with the AMAZING food and other circumstances in life this weight issue feels like a giant I can NEVER tackle.

I felt a deep pain this weekend. It was Jace's first Thanksgiving and we snapped pictures left and right. We had a blast making a HUGE dinner and chillin' just the three of us. After everything was done and my baby was in bed for the night I sat down to load up all the pictures and edit them. I got to the pictures Matt snapped of Jace and me. I couldn't stop myself. I flipped through deleting everyone of them that I was in or somehow cropping myself out. All I could think was, "If I don't get this figured out soon my son won't have any pictures of me and him together as a baby." When I look at him I know that he won't remember these days. I have a limited time span to figure all these food and weight issues before his long term memory kicks in.

In my first entry I had written about how I wanted to be healthy for Jace and teach him how to be healthy. I remembered this today as Jace was laying next to the bright red case of Christmas coke staring at it. I don't want him to even know what the stuff in that case tastes like. He had such a rough beginning to life and now that he's healthy I want him to stay that way! There's something oddly comforting about that fat Santa on the coke cans or the red and white snowflake cups at Starbucks. I wish that feeling had a name. For today we'll call them the fuzzies. My struggle with weight is that those "fuzzies" are a comfort in an uncertain, harsh and scary world.

The past two and a half years have been VERY rough for Matt and I. The best thing that happened to us was coming to EastLake. I was a lot thinner 3 years ago, about 60lbs thinner to be exact! The problem is that through all our hardships food brought the temporary "fuzzy" feeling that got me through but now it has bit me in the butt. I thought it was helping me get my mind off things and now I have an even bigger problem.

Along with exercising I have to learn that food, even though it makes me comforted temporarily, will make me even more miserable in the end. I read something today I thought I would share:

The Problem: You've designed your lifestyle around food and make it one of your top priorities.

The Answer: Change your lifestyle to include activities that don't revolve around food. Exercise, for example, is one way to get a similar high as you would from eating sugar.

Now, I'm not sure that exercise will give me the same high as sugar, not right now at least, but we'll see in the long term. I end today with a quote from the world's greatest visionary, dreamer, optimist and doer, Walt Disney. He says: "All your dreams can come true if you have the courage to pursue them." This is my dream, To be healthy and happy on the inside and out.



Happy Holidays!