Archives for 2012

“My Gutsy Story” by Heidi Morrell

August 6, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

First indication –

When my twins were but two and a half, I was pursuing a further acting career in voice over because Hollywood doesn’t like women over forty in front of the camera. While in a one on one coaching session, I noticed my mouth involuntarily moving too slowly once or twice. My teacher and I agreed it was probably because I was tired. But it kept happening as the weeks went by. I managed to record a good demo CD, but that career was not to be.

My father is a retired surgeon and my mother was a nurse, so I knew intrinsically that something was not right. I went to a Ear Nose and Throat MD when my mouth began to slur almost daily. After finding no organic structural flaws she gently suggested I consult with a neurologist. In the parking lot after that, my stomach made a fist and my breath came in more shallow as I hung my head. I’m married to a rare patient man in the music business and he comforted me upon returning home that evening.

The neurologist was gracious and kind, as I literally burst into tears when he entered the exam room. All the response tests he gave were fine, even the EEG. But he did want to rule out Multiple Sclerosis (MS) or a brain tumor/lesion, so he scheduled a MRI (magneticresonance imaging) for me. It came up negative for any lesions or tumors! I was joyous, my father and sister were joyous. My life returned to it’s busy normal self as we had two toddlers to raise and contend with. I had a nagging feeling however, and a garbled mouth, aka: disarthria.

Second indication –

Walking along down my residential street heading to the local village area, my left thigh hesitated ever so slightly when it was supposed to return, in it’s stride, up to the forward position. The moving body, in it’s stride is an amazing thing. Heck, any mammal’s body is sheer wonder if we would only stop for a moment and consider it! Seems only during the Olympics or during marathons do we stop to think, to marvel at the human body, the wonderful creation that it is.

But that hesitant thigh/knee was the dire confirmation clinching my dread, my awful suspicion that something was happening to me, my body. About this time, my husband’s music company requested he transfer to NYC, offering a quasi promotion and moving expenses. So we headed there amid speculation on my status, since my neurologist could find nothing on retesting and a second MRI. He only contended that something must be going on, and eventually something would show up on the MRI. How long before I would find myself in a wheelchair, I asked him? Maybe five years or so… I was by this time, an emotional wreck and that neurologist steered me to a psychiatrist for my unstable depression.

Before we moved to NYC area, I had my father arrange a referral for me to a good neurologist. Turned out he found one of the best at a leading hospital, Columbia Presbyterian in upper Manhattan near the Bronx. I went there to try and find a diagnosis. The neurologist specialized in movement disorders and we, my father and I, presumed it was something about that -since my leg was getting stiffer by the day. In fact, after foolishly rushing in the parking lot after a movie, I tripped and fell, breaking my ankle against the hard wood heel of my slip ons. My not so graceful butt came down hard against my ankle, impacting wood. Ouch! Of course I had to have surgery for a plate installation since it was a fragmented break. I felt a little like an automobile in for repairs.

My kids were to enter kindergarten that September, so we found a house in Scarsdale and moved in. My sister visited and she and I went to have the PET scan the new doctor ordered for diagnosis. I had planned the scan appointment around her visit. My husband was working nonstop, but he did accompany me to many of the doctor appointments.

Insult to injury, the PET scan cost $4,200! which my insurance refused to pay. I was still walking at that time, and I remember taking time to amble up a lovely tree lined path with my sister to the scan facility. She and I gazing at each other and rubbing shoulders over and over as if to recognize it was all true. And it was true.. I had MSA, a rare Atypical-Parkinsonian disease. (One can Google the condition to learn about it).
I’ve survived a lot longer than the seven to ten years typical of this, wahoo! and I have a great movement neurologist at UCLA that’s caring for me now that we’ve moved back to SoCalif.

-One doesn’t know what’s next on the journey, so have tolerance for those who are struggling. I’ve changed tremendously since 2000, but change is inevitable. You learn from it and gain humility. Being disabled provides a landscape of perspective where once, there was none.

The Take Aways:

-Appreciate what you have right now.
-Respect your body, what it can do.
-Everyone has some mess in their lives.
-Family is the best support you have.
-It can always be worse.
-Go out into nature for the refreshment of your soul.
-Always hold on to hope.

Heidi Morrell Bio:Heidi Morrell is a former T.V. actress, short film maker and college graduate in English. After having been diagnosed with an atypical movement disorder, MSA, she had to retire from acting and deal with her condition; however, she still and always has written fiction, poetry and essays. Heidi writes a column on disability and other topics, for examiner.com as: ‘LA disability’ examiner, please subscribe: http://www.examiner.com/user-hbmorrell.

Heidi is married, has boy and girl twins age twelve and lives in the Los Angeles area. Her disease has caused her to lose her basic walking ability (walker only), her sense of balance and speaking clarity. “Comedy is the key to facing reality,” she says. Being disabled provides a landscape of perspective where once, there was none. Please check out Heidi’s website You can also reach her on LinkedIn or Facebook

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Sonia Marsh Says: You are a true inspiration to all of us, especially when we take our health for granted. I am grateful to you for reminding us that we have to “appreciate what we have right now,” and that, “it can always be worse.” Your take-aways are a wonderful reminder, and I appreciate what you are doing for all of us, by opening our eyes to what life is all about. Thank you Heidi. Please leave your comments for Heidi below and share with your favorite social media online.

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Don’t forget to vote for your favorite July “My Gutsy Story.” You each get ONE VOTE, and please share with your friends and bloggers so the winner can pick his/her prize from our list of sponsors.

The voting starts August 2nd, until August 15th, and the winner will be announced on August 16th. Please go to the sidebar to VOTE and click on your favorite story of the month. Thanks, and please share with your favorite social media buttons below.

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Do you have a “My Gutsy Story” you’d like to share?

To submit your own, “My Gutsy Story” you can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here.

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Time to Vote for your favorite July, “My Gutsy Story”

August 2, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

This month we have 5 FANTASTIC people who have submitted their inspiring stories and it’s time for us to vote for our favorite.

BOB LOWRY: inspired us with his remarkable story of how perseverance and staying “Gutsy” paid off as far as leaving the corporate world and finding his own job.

SHERREY MEYER: Sherrey’s story showed us how she overcame the cruel threats of her mother’s psychological games and threats of suicide .

BELINDA NICOLL: Belinda, an expat from South Africa who moved to the U.S., in 2001, shows us how change can also presents us with opportunities in life.

MARY HERTSLET: Mary has an uplifting story about her life and her words of wisdom can help all of us. “Take advantage of your opportunities, follow your passions, and never stop learning.“

JUANIMA HIATT: Juanima, shares her incredible story which will help others and give hope to those who face PTSD. Juanima’s goal is, “to shatter the stigma of PTSD and abuse, and inspire others to break the silence.”

All five of these writers have either published books or are in the process of writing one. Please check out their websites by clicking on their names above.

You each get ONE VOTE, and please share with your friends and bloggers so the winner can pick his/her prize from our list of sponsors.

The voting starts August 2nd, until August 15th, and the winner will be announced on August 16th. Please go to the sidebar to VOTE and click on your favorite story of the month. Thanks, and please share with your favorite social media buttons below.

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Do you have a “My Gutsy Story” you’d like to share?

To submit your own, “My Gutsy Story” you can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here.

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Stay tuned for the release date of my book. Good news coming very soon.

A BONUS for those of you who write or want to write a MEMOIR. Jason Matthews invited a panel of memoir writers to his INDIE AUTHORS, Monday night show on HangoutNetworks.com. Watch the video.

You can learn about memoir writing from our panel:

Jason Matthews ( our host), Melvin Little, our producer.

Cheryl Stahle, Kathleen Pooler, Sharon Lippincott, Madeline Sharples, and me (Sonia Marsh)
You can click here to see panelists info.

“My Gutsy Story” by Juanima Hiatt

July 30, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

The Monster in Me

Inside, I trembled like a child caught in a bitter, winter wind. A blanket of numbness spread rapidly across my hands, arms, and face. We were still a few miles from my uncle’s house for the Christmas party, but the iron fist around my lungs was closing tighter, cutting off more of my air supply. I could already hear the chatter of twenty people buzzing like a swarm of locusts in my mind, and I knew that when I arrived, I would be pulled into it, and have to fight for hours to save myself. I knew relatives would corner me and ask how I am, and what have I been up to lately; they would not be able to handle my truth, so I would lie. I would smile and say, “Great!” and then hide in a back room, hoping no one would miss me.

As we sped along the freeway, I watched the trees rush by in a blur. My vision changed, marking the familiar descent out of the present where anxiety overwhelmed, into a more protected place. My surroundings became a haze, and sounds began to dissipate.

“You okay?” My husband, Mike, asked. He knew social functions were hard for me. Even if it was family.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Yes, I’ll be fine.” I wished for once I could just be honest with him. I wish I could scream, NO! I want to go home! But I refused to be a killjoy.

“Mama?” A sweet voice called from the back seat. I turned and smiled at Lacey, her six-year-old charm bubbly and irresistible. “I’m glad you came this time.”

“I’m glad, too,” I lied. I looked to the seat next to her, where her two-year-old sister, Jordan, sat transfixed on a toy in her hands. As if feeling my gaze, she looked up at me and smiled with her whole face, flashing two rows of widely-gapped baby teeth. I chuckled at her goofiness. My girls were beautiful, that was certain, but I wondered how they would fare this disorder of mine. I turned back towards the window, feeling the sting of tears in my eyes. Tears because I didn’t want to go to our family Christmas party; tears because I hated what was happening to me. Then I pushed them back as I always did, trying to hide the agony swarming and tearing at my soul. Trying to prepare myself for the act I was about to put on for my loved ones. The act I put on almost every day.

This is Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), and it was triggered by Jordan’s traumatic birth in 2003. That event blew open the vault door to the abuse I had endured as a child, and I never saw it coming.

After fourteen years of peace with my past, my mind was suddenly plagued on a daily basis with vivid memories of rape and abuse; and not just memories, but reliving the events, where terror and pain consumed me mentally and physically. I lived on edge, jumping at any sudden sound or voice. Fear, panic and anxiety grew like a second skin – I walked in it constantly. But the anxiety became the most difficult to conceal. My level of patience existed at my throat, and anything could set me off – a 180-degree turn from who I used to be.

The rage that suddenly existed inside me shocked and horrified me, and there were times I couldn’t diffuse it. I would never hurt my girls, but the rage sat weightlessly on my tongue, and I would not know it was there until they pushed my tolerance too far. One squabble, and the rage sprung out in a frightening roar before I could stop it, jolting my girls into tears. Then crushed with massive regret, I’d scoop them into my arms with profuse apologetics.

Juanima Hiatt and family — Juanima Hiatt and her lovely family

My entire being overflowed with guilt and shame for this thing I could not control, and for the person I’d become. I grieved deeply for the woman I had been: softhearted, patient, and kind. Led by dreams and ambitions of being a singer and a writer, and owning a house in green country.

Not anymore. Dreams gave way to nightmares, and daily torture by flashbacks of frightening things I wanted so badly to forget, but could not. There was no peace in my heart, no joy, and it would get much, much worse before it ever got better.

The typical stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance took five years, while I unwillingly succumbed to the symptoms of PTSD, panic disorder, agoraphobia, and social anxiety disorder. I lived in a bubble, and the plunge I took into depression and despair was so deep, I nearly took my life.

But then I faced a life-changing question: How would you feel if your daughters experienced the same pain? The idea of my daughters ever enduring this clawed my heart into shreds, and from somewhere deep inside a righteous anger rose. I knew I needed to protect them. I knew that sexual abuse is a generational curse, and if it is to stop, someone in the cycle must dig their feet into the ground and face it, fight it, and heal from it. That someone needed to be me.

I chose to fight, and I have never looked back. I will never again be the woman my husband married; I will be someone better. After all, I know who I am now. I know what I am capable of. I know that by doing hard things, I grow in leaps and bounds. By choosing to live, I have developed courage, perseverance, and an iron will. My faith is stronger than it has ever been. I have educated my daughters about sexual abuse, but I am also determined to help as many people as possible by sharing my story. My hope is to shatter the stigma of PTSD and abuse, and inspire others to break the silence.

Juanima Hiatt Bio:

Juanima Hiatt writes from Oregon whenever she can grab precious silence. She is a member of Willamette Writer’s Group and the critique group, Scribophile. Juanima has a special place in her heart for kids – especially teens – and a fervent desire to help people. She loves movies, fly-fishing, hunting, nature, and any activity with her husband and two daughters.

Her memoir, The Invisible Storm, portrays her battle with PTSD and what it takes to overcome the disorder. She also enjoys writing screenplays, children’s books, and is currently working on a political thriller novel. You can find out more about Juanima and her books on her websites: juanimahiatt.com and theinvisiblestorm.com

Please follow Juanima on Twitter@jhiatt4, Facebook and LinkedIn

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Sonia Marsh Says: Juanima, your story is incredible and I hope it will help others and give hope to those who face what you did. When the birth of your daughter brought back the trauma of your childhood, and you said,

” I lived in a bubble, and the plunge I took into depression and despair was so deep, I nearly took my life.”

“But then I faced a life-changing question: How would you feel if your daughters experienced the same pain?”

“I chose to fight, and I have never looked back.”

Your courage and strength to change and do what is right for you and your family is inspiring. Thanks for sharing and I believe in you and know you will succeed in your journey:

“to shatter the stigma of PTSD and abuse, and inspire others to break the silence.”

Please leave your comments for Juanima and she will be over to respond. Thanks for sharing with friends and your fellow readers.

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Do you have a “My Gutsy Story” you’d like to share?

To submit your own, “My Gutsy Story” you can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here.

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The next VOTING for your favorite July “My Gutsy Story” starts on Thursday August 2nd, until August15th. The winner will be announced on August 16th. Winner gets to pick their prize from our 14 sponsors.

Please share these wonderful “My Gutsy Story” series with others on Twitter and other links below, if you care to spread their work.

Thank you.

Gutsy Book Buzz: Who Gives a Crap?

July 26, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

I’m one of those last minute spontaneous bloggers who never seems to schedule things until it’s crunch time.

I often have no idea what I’m going to post until the night before–if I’m lucky–but realistically, I sometimes wait until Thursday morning, a few minutes before 8 a.m., when my post is supposed to be written.

So imagine my delight when I found an Indiegogo video, called “Who Gives a Crap?” that resonated with me.

It’s so creative, so well-written, and so honest. It was exactly what I wanted to hear about, not only because of it’s title and double entendre, (the guy sits on a toilet for over 50 hours to raise $50,000) but because the guy is a genius at coming up with a unique concept to fund his project.

So today I’m going to talk about: Who gives a crap? And more importantly, how do you stand out? Here’s what I mean.

We live in a competitive world where everyone is striving to have a voice that gets heard above the millions of other voices.

We want to be unique, but how is that possible in a world full of other unique people?

We keep hearing about the magic formula that will help us reach our goal in no time at all. As an ex- personal trainer, clients wanted the “quick fix” to get thin or muscular.

There is no magic formula for anything except one thing, in my mind. And this “who gives a crap” guy from Australia demonstrates it.

The reason why this guy succeeded in raising more money for his project than he expected is in my opinion, the formula for real success:

1). He is himself

2). He is extremely creative. How many would sit on a potty for that long!

3). He is down-to earth and unpretentious (perhaps I’m repeating #1)

4). He is not conning us.

5). He is an engineer, (I think) and I always admire smart people who haven’t been media-trained to death to sound robotic.

6). He has a project that can help others globally, especially those who are less fortunate than us.

7). If you’ve lived in a country where you depended on rain to flush your toilet, and you’ve had a drought, you can relate. This happened to my family in Belize.

8). His video is “Gutsy.” I mean to sit with your pants down and have a camera pointed towards you in a warehouse is quite “Gutsy,” wouldn’t you say?

9). He has beautiful baby blue eyes. Oops, sorry, but they remind me of my three sons when they were babies.

In today’s world, we have to think of creative ways to stand out. The questions is HOW? What kind of video would you make if you wanted to raise funds for your book, your indie movie, your project?

Any thoughts? Please let us know and share with your friends. Thanks, Sonia

Photo credit above purpleslog

“My Gutsy Story” Mary Hertslet

July 23, 2012 by Sonia Marsh

Life Lessons Learned

On the registration form for my 50th high school reunion, in the year 2000, we were asked to finish the sentence, “If I had it to do over again, I would – – – ” When completed, our answers were collected, compiled into a booklet and given to each of us. I completed the sentence with, “I would not change anything.” I was surprised to see that many others had completed the sentence in the same way. They seemed to be happy with the life they had, as was I. Also, I added a bit of advice I had already given to some of the younger generation, which was my own mantra for life: “Take advantage of your opportunities, follow your passions, and never stop learning.” A caveat to this, of course, is that you have to prepare yourself first, so that when that opportunity does come along, you will be in a position to accept it.

Together, working as a team through hard times, hard work, and with perseverance, my husband, Hersh, and I were able to start reaching some of our goals in life by taking advantage of opportunities that came to us. Sometimes, when I felt downhearted, he would say things like, “Don’t worry, we have our whole lives ahead of us”, or “The world is our oyster”. I believed it too.

After three years in the Marine Corps during WWII (two years in China), Hersh completed college and received his masters in geography. Meanwhile, I brushed up on my office skills, preparing ourselves for opportunities we might have of a career that would take us traveling. Travel was our passion. When he saw a magazine in the college library, listing positions for teachers in foreign countries, he immediately sent out applications.

In 1955, Hersh and I flew across the South Pacific, to the island of Guam, where he was under contract as a high school geography and history teacher, and I was a secretary at the school. This was the beginning of a six-year adventurous life, during which time we traveled the world.

At the end of each two-year contract, we had a three-month R&R (Rest and Relaxation) that we used for travel. This was a time before jets flew across the South Pacific, before air-conditioning, computers, etc. It was also before many people had traveled throughout Southeast Asia or explored the islands of the South Pacific as we did with our five-month-old son, Steve. We made a trip around the world later when Steve was two years old. Not much had been written about exotic places like Egypt and India. Nepal had just opened their borders. We were some of the first outsiders to enter their country.

Mary Hetrslet Leaving Guam to Okinawa — 1957 – Leaving Guam for our first three- month travels throughout Southeast Asia and the South Pacific.

Traveling through the world in the 1950s was difficult and rigorous, especially with a small child. Hersh was a consummate geographer, wanting to see countries and islands of the world from the viewpoint of the people and their lands, and not just as a tourist. It was also the most educational six years we would spend.

We lived in a pre-globalization era. We traveled during a time when the past was on the brink of colliding with the future. It was an opportunity we had then, that no longer exists

Meanwhile, island life on Guam for six years was enjoyable. Living in a Quonset hut in a small village, without telephone, TV, etc, was a culture shock, to say the least. However, we adjusted quickly and loved every minute of our life there.

After six years abroad, we returned to the States in 1961 and resumed a more normal life with our son who, by then, was five years old and ready to start school. Hersh returned to college at Rutgers University where he acquired another degree that enabled him to change his career. Afterward, we moved to the Washington, D.C. area where he began working for the Department of Defense.

Had we not taken the opportunity that was given us early in our lives, we would have missed this great six-year adventure completely. In 1976, my husband was diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. After 24 years of marriage we spent the next 33 years living with this insidious disease. He died in 2009.

Now, as I look back to a time long ago, when we took advantage of an opportunity, I can remember our great adventures during those years when there was a time for us, and the world was our oyster.

Mary Hertslet Bio:

I grew up in Independence, a small town just outside of Kansas City, Missouri. While working at a bank in Kansas City, I met my husband on a blind date (the first and last). After three years of marriage, Hersh and I went off to see the world and live on a beautiful South Pacific island for 6 glorious years.

After returning to the States, we settled in Maryland, bought a house and raised two wonderful children. I am also a proud grandmother of twin granddaughters.

In the 1980s I started a business in arts and crafts that lasted over twelve years. Finally I had to give it up to become a full time caregiver for Hersh until he went into a nursing home.

To help with my grief of knowing he would never be home again, I decided this would be the best time to start researching and writing a memoir. As I wrote, I took pages to read to him. He was no longer able to speak, but I could see the sparkle in his eyes and sometimes even a few tears. I continued writing and reading to him until his death in 2009. At that point, I stopped writing my memoir. After 57 years of marriage, it was impossible to write through my tears. I have started writing again this year, mostly essays and short stories, hoping it will bring me back to finishing my memoir.

Mary can be reached via e-mail at: clemmary1@yahoo.com

Sonia Marsh Says: I think the best response from someone when they look back upon their life is to say, “I would not change a thing, or I have no regrets.” I know my own father has said that to me, and he is 87. I also think we need to remember the important lesson you give us:

“Take advantage of your opportunities, follow your passions, and never stop learning.“

I enjoy your writing and hope that you continue with your memoir. You have so many adventures to write about that we would like to read. Thanks Mary for sharing your “My Gutsy Story”.

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Do you have a “My Gutsy Story” you’d like to share?

To submit your own, “My Gutsy Story” you can find all the information, and our sponsors on the “My Gutsy Story” contest page. (VIDEO) Submission guidelines here.

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Please leave your comments for Mary and she will be over to respond. Also remember to share the “My Gutsy Story” series with your friends by clicking on the buttons to your favorite sites below.