There are a lot of things that I am good at. I can knit; I can sew. I
can make a mean meatloaf. I can whine with the best of them. I can
read through course catalogs for colleges/universities and get a good
idea of all the policies and procedures the first time through. I can
down a pint of Ben and Jerry's in no time flat.
But I have never done smart.
Smart was not me, growing up. Smart was my older sister. She seemed to
effortlessly get A's and B's in school, and was always coming home on
this honor roll or that. Not so much for me. I didn't like to study. I
didn't really like school, to be totally honest. So, I didn't do
well. Not in high school, not my first time in college for my BSW.
Only by the skin of my teeth did I pass and graduate.
Then I started working in University settings. First in Enrollment,
then Academic Advising. I started to appreciate "school". I understood
the learning process more. The more I understood it, the more I
appreciated. I decided that I should go back to school, to get my
Master's.
I am sure that there were some who thought that I wouldn't pass. I am
sure there are some who thought I wouldn't make it all the way through.
I am pretty sure one of them was me. But I surprised myself; I did
more than "good", I did honors good. Graduated with a 3.78. Holy Cow!
I was happy with my Master's; I thought it made me stand out on
applications and that I was going to go far. It did make me stand out,
but in the past 7 years since I got it, I haven't gone far. I wasn't
doing what I really wanted to do, which was to teach at the University
level and be a counselor in a practice. I wanted to have a greater
impact on the world. I wanted to work with adolescents and young adults
who were struggling and not making the best choices when it came to
coping. Because I have been there, and I know what the caring of one or
two people can do.
But I thought I wasn't smart enough to do that. To do that would mean
to become a doctoral student, and I couldn't possibly do that. Right?
With a lot of encouragement from about 5 people in my life, I decided to
give it a shot. I applied. I sent in transcripts, written statements,
letters of recommendation. I crossed my fingers and waited. I was
called in for Interview Day, a day where you would be interviewed by 2
professors and learn more about the program. I got a new dress, new
shoes, new jewelry. I wanted to "look" smart.
My first interview, the Professor went on and on about how wonderful my
references were, how I had an impressive GPA, that my statement paper
was well written. I perked up. She made me sound smart. We talked. I
shared stories; she shared horror stories of her graduate work. Then
she did something that shocked me. She started talking about things she
and I could do, could work on, when I was a student. She talked like I
was already admitted. I was thrown for a loop. I was in shock, but I
was also euphoric. This lady, who I had never met before, thought I was
smart. Me. Smart.
I didn't sleep last night, knowing that I would get a phone call today
saying if I was or was not admitted. I woke up at least every 45
minutes and would think about it for 20 before going back to sleep. I
was scared. What would it mean if I was rejected? What would it mean
if I was accepted? Torturous!
Then today, as I was driving to work, my phone rang. I recognized the
number. It was the school. I was worried. My stomach did flip flops.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Megan. It's Dana from the Illinois School for Professional Psychology. How are you?"
"Fine, how are you?"
"Great! I wanted to call to congratulate you on your acceptance to the PsyD program...."
Tears. Lots of tears. I had to pull the car over tears.
They think I am smart. They think I can handle this work, that I have
what it takes. They think that I will make a good doctor.
A Doctor.
Dr. Mueller.
Dr. Megan Mueller.
Smart.
I can do this.
I can do smart.
Friday, November 15, 2013
Thursday, October 10, 2013
You have what?
Today is World Mental Health Day. October 10th. Every year. And, with the exception of last year, it wouldn't have even been a blip on my radar. Another "World Something" day, I would have muttered as I looked at Facebook. There seems to be a day for everything. But after living with a mental health disorder for the past two years, well, I guess I view it a little different.
I know some of you already know this, as I posted it once and very briefly on my Weight Loss blog...but for those who don't read that one, I have been diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder within the past two years. Severe and recurrent. I take medication. I see a therapist twice a week (LOVE HER). I have been hospitalized for it. More than once. I have had 12 sessions of ECT, which I would never do again and wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. It's a daily struggle to do basic things: shower, eat, take care of the kids, take care of myself, work. I have good days, and I fully embrace them when they happen. I have bad days, when I crawl into my bed and don't move for hours on end and literally want to die. But I always pull through. I have learned that there are more good days than bad, and I just have to hang on or sleep the day away and it WILL get better.
So, why share this? I think that mental health is still widely misunderstood. And stigmatized. I think that there are more people out there living with mental health issues than we are aware of because they are too afraid to ask for help or don't have the resources available to them to get help. Maybe it's you. Maybe you realize that you are having more off days than on, but don't know what to do or where to go. Or maybe you have a loved one who has a mental health issue and you don't know how to talk to them or what to say. Because there are probably a lot more of us out there than you think.
I am not defined (totally) by my disorder. I am a Mom. I am a Wife. I am a Worker. I am a Brownie Leader. I am a Daughter, a Sister, an Aunt. I am an obsessive Starbucks Junkie. That's who I am. I just happen to also have this extra bit of "joy" in my life. One more hurtle to overcome in my journey.
So go here... APA or here...WFMH Read about it. Learn about it. Don't be afraid of it. Get educated. Ask questions. Ask me questions.
I know some of you already know this, as I posted it once and very briefly on my Weight Loss blog...but for those who don't read that one, I have been diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder within the past two years. Severe and recurrent. I take medication. I see a therapist twice a week (LOVE HER). I have been hospitalized for it. More than once. I have had 12 sessions of ECT, which I would never do again and wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. It's a daily struggle to do basic things: shower, eat, take care of the kids, take care of myself, work. I have good days, and I fully embrace them when they happen. I have bad days, when I crawl into my bed and don't move for hours on end and literally want to die. But I always pull through. I have learned that there are more good days than bad, and I just have to hang on or sleep the day away and it WILL get better.
So, why share this? I think that mental health is still widely misunderstood. And stigmatized. I think that there are more people out there living with mental health issues than we are aware of because they are too afraid to ask for help or don't have the resources available to them to get help. Maybe it's you. Maybe you realize that you are having more off days than on, but don't know what to do or where to go. Or maybe you have a loved one who has a mental health issue and you don't know how to talk to them or what to say. Because there are probably a lot more of us out there than you think.
I am not defined (totally) by my disorder. I am a Mom. I am a Wife. I am a Worker. I am a Brownie Leader. I am a Daughter, a Sister, an Aunt. I am an obsessive Starbucks Junkie. That's who I am. I just happen to also have this extra bit of "joy" in my life. One more hurtle to overcome in my journey.
So go here... APA or here...WFMH Read about it. Learn about it. Don't be afraid of it. Get educated. Ask questions. Ask me questions.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
The Fight
The book lay open on the floor. He lazed on his stomach, reading the lines and smirking with each quote. This was too much fun for him. He thought that he hadn't had this much fun since he was a cub on Christmas morning. Eagerly, he pawed at each page and enjoyed the poetry that flowed like a river. He looked over at where she was. Happiness filled his chest. She was just where he wanted, and he took pride in knowing that he was accomplishing his goal.
"Death must be so beautiful," he read to her. "To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and to listen to the silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace."
She jerked on the bed, struggling against the prose. He had shackled her hands and feet tightly; she had limited movement. She was trying to fight against the sadness that he was pouring into her soul. Her attempts to block the words were futile, and she felt her spirit shriveling with each stanza.
"I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life,” she spat back at him. She didn't need a book to recite the quotes. They were imprinted in her being, and she searched the quickly to find the ammunition that was much needed. He was king of his craft, however, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could go on.
He snapped his head up. Anger boiled in his blood. How dare she try to combat his words! He quickly turned the pages is search of more poison. "I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.”
Each word pierced her soul like a dagger. The tears flowed down her cheeks. She kept telling herself to fight, that she could not give in. She must continue to fight. The handcuffs dug into her flesh, but it was not the outside pain that she was worried about. Those scars could heal. She needed to protect what was left inside.
"I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.” She breathed the words heavily, feeling like she was being choked with each syllable.
He took a moment to look at her. So sad, he thought. She didn't have a chance and yet there she lay trying to fight against him. At least he had picked someone with spunk, he mused. If he had selected prey that would have just rolled over and died, well, that would have been no fun. He turned his attention back to the book, and searched for the next quote.
"I have taken a pill to kill the thin papery feeling,” he roared.
Her back arched, the words burning. Her defenses were weakening, she knew that she couldn't take much more. One more, she thought, I only have energy for one more. She would have prayed that it worked, except she didn't believe in the power of prayer any longer. It had been too long since any of her prayers had been answered that she found the act pointless. She lifted her head and looked the Lion right in his eyes.
"I think I made you up inside my head.” She collapsed back on the bed. That was all she had. She couldn't speak; she could fight no more.
He leaped from his spot and pounced on top of her. Straddling her frail being, he looked down at what was left. Just a shell, a wisp of where a woman used to be.
"All I want is blackness. Blackness and silence.” The words flowed from his tongue. Pride swelled in his chest. He took a final swipe at her body with his paw to make sure she was done. She made no movement. He retreated to his corner, curled into a ball, and rested his head on the ground. He had won.
"Death must be so beautiful," he read to her. "To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one's head, and to listen to the silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow. To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace."
She jerked on the bed, struggling against the prose. He had shackled her hands and feet tightly; she had limited movement. She was trying to fight against the sadness that he was pouring into her soul. Her attempts to block the words were futile, and she felt her spirit shriveling with each stanza.
"I want to live and feel all the shades, tones and variations of mental and physical experience possible in life,” she spat back at him. She didn't need a book to recite the quotes. They were imprinted in her being, and she searched the quickly to find the ammunition that was much needed. He was king of his craft, however, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could go on.
He snapped his head up. Anger boiled in his blood. How dare she try to combat his words! He quickly turned the pages is search of more poison. "I couldn’t see the point of getting up. I had nothing to look forward to.”
Each word pierced her soul like a dagger. The tears flowed down her cheeks. She kept telling herself to fight, that she could not give in. She must continue to fight. The handcuffs dug into her flesh, but it was not the outside pain that she was worried about. Those scars could heal. She needed to protect what was left inside.
"I must get my soul back from you; I am killing my flesh without it.” She breathed the words heavily, feeling like she was being choked with each syllable.
He took a moment to look at her. So sad, he thought. She didn't have a chance and yet there she lay trying to fight against him. At least he had picked someone with spunk, he mused. If he had selected prey that would have just rolled over and died, well, that would have been no fun. He turned his attention back to the book, and searched for the next quote.
"I have taken a pill to kill the thin papery feeling,” he roared.
Her back arched, the words burning. Her defenses were weakening, she knew that she couldn't take much more. One more, she thought, I only have energy for one more. She would have prayed that it worked, except she didn't believe in the power of prayer any longer. It had been too long since any of her prayers had been answered that she found the act pointless. She lifted her head and looked the Lion right in his eyes.
"I think I made you up inside my head.” She collapsed back on the bed. That was all she had. She couldn't speak; she could fight no more.
He leaped from his spot and pounced on top of her. Straddling her frail being, he looked down at what was left. Just a shell, a wisp of where a woman used to be.
"All I want is blackness. Blackness and silence.” The words flowed from his tongue. Pride swelled in his chest. He took a final swipe at her body with his paw to make sure she was done. She made no movement. He retreated to his corner, curled into a ball, and rested his head on the ground. He had won.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
I have a blog?
I have a blog? Really? I have several, actually, and they have all been neglected. So, to ease myself back in, I want to share what I think is the quintessential song that I think should be in the 50 Shades of Grey ( yes, still obsessing) movie. Don't worry, I have a book club in about 2 weeks so hopefully I will get it out of my system....
I believe that Counting Crows came out when I was in college, so this is circa 1997 maybe? Still good stuff....But, tell me you don't agree that this fits......
I believe that Counting Crows came out when I was in college, so this is circa 1997 maybe? Still good stuff....But, tell me you don't agree that this fits......
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Couch to 5K in 16 weeks? Sound good?
Does this plan sound good?
I know that many runner friends out there have used training plans...how does this sound?
25/0 = walk/run
And would it be ok to elliptical on my off days? I am shooting for 6 days of exercise with only one day a week off for weight loss purpose....
I know that many runner friends out there have used training plans...how does this sound?
25/0 = walk/run
And would it be ok to elliptical on my off days? I am shooting for 6 days of exercise with only one day a week off for weight loss purpose....
Phase I Walk/Run Month 1 Mostly Walking (Times in minutes per day)
| ||||||||
| Week | M | T | W | TH | F | S | S | TOTAL |
| 1 | Off | 25/0 | Off | 30/0 | Off | Off | 30/0 | 85/0 |
| 2 | Off | 27/3 | Off | 27/3 | Off | Off | 27/3 | 81/9 |
| 3 | Off | 24/6 | Off | 24/6 | Off | Off | 24/6 | 72/18 |
| 4 | Off | 27/3 | Off | 24/6 | Off | Off | 24/6 | 75/15 |
Grand total: 313/42
| ||||||||
Phase - II Walk/Run Month 2 Mostly Walking (Times in minutes per day)
| ||||||||
| Week | M | T | W | TH | F | S | S | TOTAL |
| 1 | Off | 21/9 | Off | 21/9 | Off | Off | 21/9 | 63/27 |
| 2 | Off | 18/12 | Off | 18/12 | Off | Off | 18/12 | 54/36 |
| 3 | Off | 15/15 | Off | 15/15 | Off | Off | 15/15 | 45/45 |
| 4 | Off | 18/12 | Off | 15/15 | Off | Off | 15/15 | 48/42 |
Grand Total: 210/150
| ||||||||
Phase - III Walk/Run Month 3 Mostly Running (Times in minutes per day)
| ||||||||
| Week | M | T | W | TH | F | S | S | TOTAL |
| 1 | Off | 12/18 | Off | 12/18 | Off | Off | 12/18 | 36/54 |
| 2 | Off | 9/21 | Off | 9/21 | Off | Off | 9/21 | 27/63 |
| 3 | Off | 6/24 | Off | 6/24 | Off | Off | 6/24 | 18/72 |
| 4 | Off | 9/21 | Off | 6/24 | Off | Off | 6/24 | 21/69 |
Grand Total: 102/258
| ||||||||
Phase - IV Run Month 4 All Running (Times in minutes per day)
| ||||||||
| Week | M | T | W | TH | F | S | S | TOTAL |
| 1 | Off | 15 | Off | 15 | Off | Off | 20 | 50 |
| 2 | Off | 20 | Off | 20 | Off | Off | 20 | 60 |
| 3 | Off | 20 | Off | 25 | Off | Off | 25 | 70 |
| 4 | Off | 25 | Off | 25 | Off | Off | 30 | 80 |
Grand Total: 260
| ||||||||
Monday, May 28, 2012
I'm right on top of it all.....
So...some times our dog is a bit irregular...Hey, it happens to the best of us. Unfortunately, Mia is generally irregular in the middle of Austin's bedroom. To help with this, we have invested in a carpet cleaner and keep it stocked with fresh water, cleanser, and have it ready to go.
The other day I walked in from dropping the girls off at school and my nose caught whiff of that tell tale sign. Damn. I grabbed a Target bag that we stash for dog accidents and the such, a handful of paper-towels, not-so-silently cussed out the dog as I pounded my way down the bedroom hallway. I quickly used the paper-towel to clean the wet mess and tied the bag up. I applied a generous amount of baking soda/pet cleaner mixture, allowed the 10 minute soak time, and went to town with the carpet cleaner. Then comes the fanning of Febreeze in the room, turning on of the overhead fan, and washing of the carpet cleaning bucket. The room still kinda had a stench to me, but it was a NASTY mess, so I figured it needed a little bit of time.
When three days later there was STILL a funk about the room, Jim took the air purifier that we use in our bedroom for allergies and thought maybe that would help. Nope. Still stench.
But you know what did help?
When Jim took out the Target bag of poop that I had put on the back of the door and forgot about because I was so busy doing everything else.
Mommy fail.
(Insert laughter here. We did. It's all you can do sometimes.)
The other day I walked in from dropping the girls off at school and my nose caught whiff of that tell tale sign. Damn. I grabbed a Target bag that we stash for dog accidents and the such, a handful of paper-towels, not-so-silently cussed out the dog as I pounded my way down the bedroom hallway. I quickly used the paper-towel to clean the wet mess and tied the bag up. I applied a generous amount of baking soda/pet cleaner mixture, allowed the 10 minute soak time, and went to town with the carpet cleaner. Then comes the fanning of Febreeze in the room, turning on of the overhead fan, and washing of the carpet cleaning bucket. The room still kinda had a stench to me, but it was a NASTY mess, so I figured it needed a little bit of time.
When three days later there was STILL a funk about the room, Jim took the air purifier that we use in our bedroom for allergies and thought maybe that would help. Nope. Still stench.
But you know what did help?
When Jim took out the Target bag of poop that I had put on the back of the door and forgot about because I was so busy doing everything else.
Mommy fail.
(Insert laughter here. We did. It's all you can do sometimes.)
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
To do list
These are the things I am hoping to accomplish this summer. My husband thinks it's funny how I have intermingled my long and short term goals:
Finish re-mulching the side yard
Plant Lillys
Weed garden
Wash all sheets
Kitchen Table
Hall Closet
Conquer Kitchen Cooking Shelves
Retype FSA By-Laws
Walk Mia
Wash Kitchen Floors
Write Book
Clean Bathroom Closet
Clean/Purge Desk Shelves
Shutterfly/Yearbooks for kids
Pile in living room
Redecorate Fireplace
Normal, right? Ok....maybe the "Write Book" thing isn't on EVERYONE'S list...but did I mention that I have worked out the 24 character names and can visualize the classroom and have biographies done for the main 6 characters? It's gonna be good! I have also done that kinda writing where you know how you want certain paragraphs to go, so you write them down even if you don't anticipate that it will actually happen until book 3, but you don't want to forget what is in your head because it sounds so good in this exact moment!!!!! That was said with increasing excitement and pace....i hope it read that way....
The End
Finish re-mulching the side yard
Plant Lillys
Weed garden
Wash all sheets
Kitchen Table
Hall Closet
Conquer Kitchen Cooking Shelves
Retype FSA By-Laws
Walk Mia
Wash Kitchen Floors
Write Book
Clean Bathroom Closet
Clean/Purge Desk Shelves
Shutterfly/Yearbooks for kids
Pile in living room
Redecorate Fireplace
Normal, right? Ok....maybe the "Write Book" thing isn't on EVERYONE'S list...but did I mention that I have worked out the 24 character names and can visualize the classroom and have biographies done for the main 6 characters? It's gonna be good! I have also done that kinda writing where you know how you want certain paragraphs to go, so you write them down even if you don't anticipate that it will actually happen until book 3, but you don't want to forget what is in your head because it sounds so good in this exact moment!!!!! That was said with increasing excitement and pace....i hope it read that way....
The End
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