October | 2019 | She Soars psychiatry, LLC

“I told myself I was tough”, she said.

“I told myself I was strong enough to stand by him”, she went on. “He has a troubled past and I understand why he might…”

She was no doubt tough. She had come into my office with her boots authentically worn from long days and dust. She placed her wide brimmed cowboy hat on the side table revealing her face with lines etched by the sun. Her long sleeve button down shirt was tucked into pressed dark denim Wranglers adorned by a silver belt buckle. She told me about her horse who had been her companion for the past fifteen years, her cow dog, and her days counting cattle and mending fence. She said she preferred solitude and despised being the subject of pity. “I have never been to anybody like you before”, she said. “It just never felt right to complain”, she continued while she shook her head and stared at the office floor.

At the time, as a bonafide ‘beginner’ in my profession, I couldn’t help feeling intimidation, respect, admiration, and curiosity all at once. She exuded an old-fashioned wisdom and grit softened by humility.

She told me about her anxiety. She told me that she could generally escape the worry amid daily demands on the ranch and with the freedom she felt on her horse’s back navigating endless acres of high desert and sage.

Inevitable aging and the toll of ranch life had forced a slow-down. She told me two much younger ranch hands were hired and the herd was downsized, which offered a reprieve, but also more moments of stillness seldom available in the past. Distractions became fewer and God help her, she was not going to get one of those “darn smartphones”. The opportunities to bury the day’s worries in hard work became scarcer.

For a long time, the story she told was not being able to overcome the tightness in her chest, the pit she felt in her gut, the lost “pep in her step”. She avoided using words like ‘sad’ and ‘afraid’ and often apologized for “bombarding me” with so many problems despite my repeated reassurance.

At times, she exuded suspicion and stubbornness when we discussed strategies and ways to cope. Nevertheless, her attendance week after week did not waiver.

One week, nearly six months into our work together, she sat down on the couch as always, put her hat on the side table as always, and then tears fell. Most always armed with stoicism and a ‘safe’ emotional distance, her tears caught me off guard. I attempted to gently inquire knowing that this was a pivotal moment…

“Can I show you something?” she said. I nodded with equal parts encouragement and concern.

She unbuttoned the cuffs on her shirt and with tears still falling rolled up her sleeves.

She held out her bare forearms discolored with visible shades of blues, reds, and purples and then stated, “there’s more”, and she slowly removed her shirt. Trying to hold back the intensity of my own emotions, I stood up from my chair, put a hand on her shoulder and could only think to say, “you are safe here”.

I scanned her upper body etched in bruises and redness- up and down her arms, the contours of her back, the base of her neck, along her ribs. Amid the damage, I couldn’t also help but notice her physical strength and stature that seemed to be in such stark contrast to the violence forcefully inscribed all over her body.

He had been described as an “old cowboy who liked whiskey”. He had been a Vietnam veteran almost certainly haunted by the trauma of war. She told me his rages would come without warning and she would become his target. Sometimes months would go by without incident. Accusations of infidelity, belittling, and name calling would escalate into punching, pushing, kicking, and hair pulling.

Afterwards there was usually an apology and sometimes a letter with promises never realized. Enduring the fear of staying was somehow lesser for her than facing the fear of pity and a future unknown. She tried her best to see her tolerance as toughness and in the lonely moments, found bits of reassurance riding out to her favorite viewpoint and taking in the beauty of the land when all else seemed so ugly.

I was the first person she told. Amid her desperation, I withheld my temptation to respond with a directive to ‘leave’ as it is almost never that simple. As she stood in my office exposed, vulnerable to the core, and overwhelmed with uncertainty, I struggled to find words. So instead, I could only say to her what was most evident to me… “I have never seen you so tough” and this I repeated week after week as we navigated the journey ahead.

This story is in honor to all the men, women, and children who have experienced or have been witness to domestic violence.

Details of this story and names have been withheld due to confidentiality. Client consent was granted prior to publication.

Thank you for listening.

With gratitude,

Audry Van Houweling, Owner & Founder, She Soars Psychiatry, LLC

Sisters & Silverton, Oregon, www.shesoarspsych.com

Despite a bit of denial after what seemed to be an abbreviated summer, seeing snowflakes on my weekly commute over the Cascades, digging out my mittens, and the sudden necessity of hot coffee in the morning rather than my typical iced latte, has forced me to accept that indeed, Autumn is upon us.

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Autumn is a perfect opportunity to practice optimism- to embrace the glass half full so to speak- especially when half full with pumpkin spice goodness. It is an opportunity to witness the beauty of letting go as golden and bronzed leaves drift to rest on forest floors and to welcome contemplation and change amid nature’s inevitable transition. For some of us, Autumn can represent the beginning of wintertime and holiday trepidations, which makes it more difficult to cozy up to the idea of warm sweaters, fireside cuddles, and flavors from the harvest. Creating physical space to welcome nature’s fated changeover can help lessen anxiety and enhance feelings of acceptance, joy, and contentment.

When it comes to seasonal home décor, I certainly am not on a pedestal. Somehow between work demands, commutes, and proximity to family and friends who are far more inclined to bestow seasonal delights, my efforts at seasonal décor are negligible. I took much pride in taking the time to hang the one strand of lights that donned my front door for the holidays last year. Somehow that seemed like a lot. Oh yes, I must also mention the single bundle of tinsel tossed hastily along my mantle and the wreath bought on impulse from some cute, convincing child raising money outside the grocery store. It did actually make it to my front door a couple weeks later…

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While my efforts are a work in progress, there is undoubtedly emotional benefits to creating traditions dedicated to welcoming seasonal change. My mother is a master at this and I, in all my adult glory, still have a child-like excitement to holidays at my childhood home. Myself and my siblings who are all bonafide adults and out of the house can still count on the predictable delectableness of spiced breads, holiday cookies, cobblers, and pies. My mother is also extraordinarily organized. She keeps carefully planned lists for when decorations should emerge and has labeled bins thoughtfully arranged for holiday décor, ornaments, cookie cutters, tabletop platters, and the like, which gives me something to strive for as a I clumsily shuffle through my garage attempting to find my one strand of Christmas lights. The music is always the same. A homage to holidays past of the 1970’s with James Taylor, Linda Ronstadt, and the drawn-out tones of Aaron Neville that drive me a bit batty, but nevertheless cannot be spared. The same holiday figurines and adornments from my early childhood days still make their appearance all these years later. My mother is even thoughtful enough to still grace the Christmas tree with the truly unfortunate childhood craft experiments/ornaments created by myself and siblings that she still says, “are sweet”. My mother holds the torch for seasonal cheer, but she has inspired me to light some small candles.

While the nostalgia my mother has created (and father when he, at the persistence of my mother, finally puts the Christmas lights up) can never be matched, I have taken it upon myself to be a bit more intentional to bring seasonal cheer to the confines of my own home and offices. This week for example, I bought a single pumpkin that while not carved, is sitting on my front porch. This is a win. I also recently gave into the discount bins at Target compelling me to invest in an assortment of random plastic gourds, a garland with fake Autumn leaves, and a bag of seemingly nonsensical blue pumpkins that seemed frivolous if it were not for the fact that the colors matched my office scheme. I somehow felt a sense of camaraderie with the other several women carrying an assortment of Autumn embellishments in the checkout line sharing comments with such as, “I couldn’t resist”…and “can you believe how cute?!” I smiled and nodded as if it all came natural. Ultimately, let’s just say I am a work in progress.

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There is much to be said about the psychology of décor and how your physical space can alter your emotions. Research suggests that adorning your home, office, or place of business with seasonal décor makes you appear more hospitable and sociable. Decorating early for the holidays (we are talking before Thanksgiving) can reportedly help lower stress, elicit nostalgia, and can reconnect us to positive childhood memories. Basically, you can get the “warm fuzzies” even earlier. It can be the little things that do not have to be costly like a warm blanket, unpacking your cozy sweaters, the smell of seasonal fare, a burning candle, or a new novel that can go far in creating lightness and seasonal ambiance.

So, whether you are on par with Martha Stewart or a work in progress such as myself, there is room for us all to welcome nature’s golden hour in our own unique ways. Here’s to your glass of Autumn splendor remaining half-full.

Thanks for listening everyone.

With gratitude,

Audry Van Houweling, Owner & Founder, She Soars Psychiatry, LLC

Sisters & Silverton, Oregon

She Soars psychiatry, LLC

Audry Van Houweling, PMHNP-BC

Month: October 2019

TOUGH.

My Attempt at Seasonal Cheer and Why it is Worth it.