KEEP FIGHTING: Please help me save the man who saved my life

My company, Picture Your World Photography, will be hosting a Photoshoot Virtual Auction to raise health care funds for Efrain Cruz, my very first photography instructor who is fighting cancer.

To help support this effort, I will be auctioning off a full hour long photography session (retail value $300). You get the whole shebang: 15 edited high resolution digital images, a personalized session with my favorite makeup and hair artist and a release form to have your images printed at any lab of your choosing.

Just leave your highest bid in the comments on my blog here or under the post I'm going to copy and paste on my business Facebook page.

The bid will open at $50.

I want to share a personal plea to help me save the man who saved my life, even though I don't think he knew that's what he was doing at the time.

After my mother's sudden death in 2005 at the tender age of 48, I was still reeling, still needing something to get me out of bed, still searching for a reason that would keep me here when all I wanted to do was end my life so I could be with her. In therapy, my counselor taught me about a depression coping technique called "mastering a skill-set." Basically when we learn something new and find out we are good at it, it improves our  confidence and self-esteem while at the same time lessening our depression. I had always wanted to take a photography class, so I bit the bullet, bought a $1,000 digital camera and took an Intro to Digital Photography Class at the now defunct Denver Darkroom.

Efrain was my teacher. I was new and I was scared, so scared I actually went to the class with my camera still tucked away safe and sound in it's box. I mean, really...a $1,000 camera??? That was the greatest luxury item I had ever purchased for myself that wasn't a car or house payment. What, was I crazy! I didn't want to break it!

Efrain talked me through the dicey prospects of removing the camera, a Canon Rebel XTI, opening from the security of its bubble wrap. He didn't laugh at me when all the other students in class kept giving me side eye. When those students would talk to Efrain about concepts like aperture and ISO and shutter speed and depth of view, it was as if they were speaking Greek. It was clear that while they might have been new to digital photography, they weren't new to the craft itself, like I was.

A week later when I thought about quitting the class because I just wasn't getting the concepts, it was Efrain who told me this: "Stay. Don't leave. You have a gift, a natural eye. I promise you if you give me the next month, these techniques will literally click for you. It will all make sense."
 I stayed...in his class. And I stayed alive. I remember taking my first few prints of flowers, and trees and clouds to my group cognitive therapy class and showing the other attendees the images I had created. Look! I did this! Suddenly, the irrational thoughts of suicide that had been haunting me were slowly being replaced with wonder and awe of a new technology, a HARD technology, that I seemed to be actually getting.

Efrain was right! After just a month of attending his class (and getting some side help from photographers at The Denver Post!) I was shooting just as well as the other students. When I was brave enough to get underneath a car with my Rebel XTI and shoot the nooks and crannies of my muffler and front and back differentials, I shocked the hell out of Efrain and the students who so intimidated me before shared in my success.

When Efrain had a conflict and wasn't able to shoot a paid special event assignment, he sent out an email to his students asking if anyone could take over for him. I was the only student who replied back: I can do it.

I got my first job as the event photographer at an awards ceremony for the Denver Women's League of Voters. It was history in the making, my new history that changed the course of my life. I started  taking on more and more paid assignments until I had the courage to start my company Picture Your World Photography. Efrain, my company was nominated for a City of Aurora "Best of the Best" small business award last month. That happened because you believed in me, pushed me to continue.

We have all had those teachers in our lives who directed us, challenged us to do things we didn't think we could, who saw things within us that we weren't able to see ourselves. Efrain was one of those teachers for me. Help him now, if you can, by donating whatever you can to honor not only him, but every earthly bound guardian angel who took the time to take interest in you, to believe in you when no one was would.

Thank you Efrain! We love you, and you are not alone in this fight.

I THINK TOO MUCH: I don't know how to let go

Why is letting go so hard? I struggle with it even when I know something isn't beneficial for me, when I know it brings me tears just as often if not more so than laughter. Pain and confusion more than happiness and security.

Is it because I want to avoid failure so much that I keep putting my head on the chopping block? A friend told me it might be because I want to prove everyone else wrong...all the people who told me it was a mistake to let you back into my life. So is it because of my pride that I'm crying for you now? Is it my fault? Is this why I feel so stupid now?

I have no answers, only more questions. This article from Tiny Buddha offered some relief, some kind of understanding:  “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.” ~Maya Angelou

Writer Dina Strada writes: :"I expected people to change just because I thought they should be or feel a certain way. But at that point in my spiritual journey, I hadn’t yet learned that everyone is on their own path, and sometimes their soul just isn’t in alignment with yours."

I always believed we were soulmates, that our souls recognized each other from the moment we met. You were my best friend. You told me just last week that all I had to do was make a choice. Even if I'm not strong enough to carry through with it, yet. Make the decision to make a choice and the path would be lain before me. It likely wouldn't be easy because nothing ever worth doing, ever worth fighting for is.

I just didn't want that path to lead me walking away from you.

I don't know if you will see this because you blocked me and won't take my phone calls asking you what happened, why are you angry, what did I do to deserve this treatment. Again.

And I likely won't know when you come back to me. Again.

That has been our pattern, the push/pull of holding on too tight, then the pain of loss. Over and over, around we go.

I'm tired of spinning and getting dizzy with relief when you come back and sorrow when you go away again.

You blocked me, and I have returned that favor. It was all I could do. Self preservation, not spite.

I love you, but our friendship is over.

KEEP FIGHTING: Panic Attack

I'm terrified! There, I acknowledged it.

I've been trying to be positive and keep upbeat about this 90 day loan modification trial period to keep my house from foreclosing. I've been approved for a 90-day trial period of the federal government's Home Affordable Modification Program. It allows me to pay a reduced mortgage for three months to prove to my loan servicer that I can make a modified loan payment plan before finalizing a modification. I got lost in the quagmire of bad loans that took the nation's economy down when I refinanced my then 2008 mortgage into an ARM. That loan started adjusting in 2013, taking my once manageable monthly payment of $1150 to a whopping $1500 in a month. And the amount just kept going up, far outpacing my pay checks. In 2011, I started "working" with my servicer, which was then Bank of America about six months before I knew I wasn't going to be able to make my full mortgage payment due to accepting a buyout at my old job (versus being laid off). Over the next four years, "working" with the bank turned into "battling" the bank; getting rejected two times for a modification. BofA sold my troubled mortgage to Green Tree Servicing (which is now Ditech) and less than a month after Green Tree took over, I started getting foreclosure notices. I started working with realtor Debbie Friedman and City of Aurora Housing Counselor Tony Ormsby who held my hand during my third modification attempt. I had no real hope it would work. But nearly 70 pages of faxed and signed documents later, I finally got a letter from Ditech saying I had been approved for the trial period. I cried at my desk from relief. If I could pay a reduced mortgage (about $300 less) for three months, Ditech would grant me a modification and hopefully a new, 30-year fixed rate.

An amazing blessing, isn't it? I was giddy for several days until a frightening truth hit me in the face. It had been nibbling on the insides of my head for days, but I tried not to pay it any attention. Ignore it and it will go away. Yah, I'm sure we all know how THAT works.


A photography client wasn't able to pay me that morning as planned for some CDs they'd ordered. Normally that's not an issue. I wait till you can, I know things come up. But that day, of course, my gas tank was on E. I cried all the way to the gas station, not sure if my credit card would let me overdraft so I could fill up the Jeep.

And my darkness -- that's what I call my depression -- swooped in on me like a shark who had been searching the sea for blood it smelt 10 miles away. "If I can't even pay for gas, how will I pay for a mortgage?"

That's how the depressed mind works...it's usually a whisper that turns into a roar. That one thought sent me screaming down the rabbit hole until I was so filled with anxiety I could barely drive to work. Didn't matter that my card let me overdraft. It's cool...you have gas, now go to work. Crisis overted. NOPE. My depressed mind doesn't work that way. That one incident turned into a day worth of crying, of kicking myself, of feeling like a failure, of just knowing that I will fail, and I will lose my house.

Took me all day to argue myself down....to use coping skills I've learned through cognitive therapy. Acknowledge the emotion and the thought that impacted your mood. But also acknowledge evidence that proves that emotion wrong.

Here's what I came up with: 

1) Money gets tight at certain times of the month for everyone, not just me. I didn't have gas money yesterday, but I get paid tomorrow. I have a full time job and I run a small business, and I donate plasma. I'm crafty and resourceful. I will do whatever it takes to survive. Plus I have three photography shoots already lined up for next month. I got this. I will make it happen.

2) My new mortgage is $300 cheaper than the original. If I was able to pay that one before, then why wouldn't I be able to pay it now?

3) I have so many friends and relatives supporting me. All I have to do is swallow my pride and reach out. I am not alone even when my depression wants me to believe I am.


Still, I didn't really believe that until I woke up the next morning. Of course, by then, I had to apologize to my man for getting into a stupid argument and ripping him a new one because I was anxious and afraid. I had to have one of my besties kick me in the pants and forcefully put my head back on straight. I had to cry myself to sleep and let out more pain.

The main thing: the sun did come up and I was renewed again. But if I didn't suffer from depression, I would have been able to stop this mental train before it ran me over.

I guess I'm sharing this because I've had so many people message me privately on Facebook about their own battles with depression and ask questions about where they might be able to go to get help. September is Suicide Prevention Month, and I've been posting a ton of information helpful resources. I'm being open because I know many of my friends either feel they can't be or don't want to be. I get that. But I'm old, and I just don't give a crap anymore about others judging this part of me. Being open about this particular fight keeps me accountable. Keeps me alive. I just wanted to share with you an example of how some depressed people's minds work; how our thought processes are different from someone who is not depressed, and why this mental disorder must be treated, often times on numerous fronts that include medication and therapy. It's not something that can be gotten over or ignored. It's not something that can only be prayed away, although as a Christian I do believe in the power of prayer. I just also believe the Lord helps those who help themselves by getting into treatment for a known disease. Do with this what you will, but I hope you will read it and gain some insight. Share it with someone you know may be suffering.

LET'S BEGIN!

It occurred to me that I might want to take a few steps back and pen a "Welcome to My World," post. But fair warning...sometimes my world is a dark place struggling to find the light. But you can't see the starry universe smiling down at you without an ebony night.

So I have a new adventure. Because I have nearly 50 Facebook followers and I didn't have to pay any of them to become so, I figure all my ramblings might add up to something that's not actually BS. You seem to like what I'm throwing down, you ken (yes, I'm obsessed with Outlander)?

I'm gonna try my hand at blogging again and see what happens. I came up with "Finally Beautiful" because I think I am there, both internally and externally. I've spent 41 years of my personal journey progressing from "I think I'm ugly" as a teen to "I might be reasonably cute" as an adult. 

NOPE, I'm beautiful. I want to embrace my beauty, define my beauty and live my beauty. My beauty isn't yours and it shouldn't be. YOUR BEAUTY IS YOURS! Honor it and come along with me on this journey of honoring mine if you choose too.

PRODUCT JUNKIE: Curly on a Budget

My hair needs to go on a budget. It has champagne tastes when all I've got to work with right now is a tap water salary. My tresses love the $44 bottle of DevaCurl One Condition Decadence, the $26 bottle of Ouidad Climate Control Heat and Humidity Gel and the $55 Moroccanoil Intense Hydrating Mask. OMG does my hair LOVE, LOVE, LOVE all of it. No doubt these are some of the best products I've found for making my 4a/4b coils pop.

But my new budget is saying I had better get used to the $5 Cantu Define & Shine Custard, which works just as well for me as my Quidad gel, but at a fraction of the cost. The reality is this: my finances just can't support my hair habit right now until Mommy can bring home more bacon.


It's no lie that I think I have systematically worked my way through just about every brand in Sally's natural hair section (....oh, I haven't tried Miss Jessie's line yet...FOCUS. FOCUS.) You can see I clearly have a problem. Since I did my big chop in late 2011, I have thoroughly enjoyed learning about my God-given curl pattern that I hadn't seen since I was a little girl and my mom made the foolish mistake of giving into my whim for a Care Free Curl (you should have stuck to your guns, Mom. I would have thanked you when I grew older and hopefully less dumber). But my pocket book hasn't had nearly as much fun with my sickness....ER, I MEAN..... habit as my hair has.

So I'm on a quest to replace my beloved but beyond my current budget hair care items with equally awesome while belt-tightening products.

Makeup, do not breathe a sigh of relief. You're next. Lancome Teint Idole Ultra 24H 450 you are out, my friend. Best damn foundation match to my skin tone I've ever found. But I'm thinking Cover Girl might have to be in for a minute.

YOU ARE OUT (For now! Seriously, I'm crying over here. Thanks for the motivation though to get my finances correct so I can go back to you ASAP!)

YOU ARE IN:

I'm going to try these out and see if they can replace my more expensive tried but definite trues. Hit me back up later for some product reviews.