Self-Portrait

Posted on December 12, 2023 by Joy

Who’s the imposter inside your skin?
Is it you?
Is it me?
Is it her or is it him?

Who’s that voice you hear in your head?
Is it hers?
Is it his?
Mama said, Daddy said.

What are those words
Coming out of your face?
Are they filled with life
Or marred with disgrace?

Those thoughts in your head
Too many to count
Slow them down…
Reduce the amount.

Deep belly breaths
Innnnn and then out
Release the stress
Let go of the doubt.

You are whole
You are free
Let it be
You will see

The shame from past sins
May no longer reside
The present is now
Where I no longer hide.

The sanctity of this moment
Right here in my face
Reminding me of my mantra
Which is “grace upon grace”.

Divinity rises
Darkness is light
I no longer will fear
What’s not in plain sight.

As I pen these words
The light is breaking through
Not only for me
It’s also for you.

Joy Original
10/23/23

I’m not quite ready to go into this one. It is so deeply personal. I post this for the one who needs to know they are not alone in the struggle. No matter what the specificities may be, we find similarities in our humanity. Think what could happen if we begin looking at the human being across from us with compassion and understanding no matter what condition they are in. This is a time for love. More than I have ever witnessed.
We will never cure hate with more hate. Love is the answer. It always has been.

After She’s Gone

Video

Yesterday was the first of many firsts.
It was the first time I celebrated a birthday without my mama on this earth.

She died on a Monday. July 17th.
It’s been a little more than 1 month and yet it feels like many more.
Grief is tricky that way.

I have grieved many things in many ways but none like this.
I’ve lived enough for 10 people in this one life and never have I found sadness to be as complex & intricately woven throughout my being as this of my mother no longer bound by earthly limitations.

I’ve been abnormally quiet over the last 4 weeks.
Even still I am thankful for each one of you who have reached out to express your condolences. I know that takes courage, especially when you aren’t sure what to say.

The relationship with my mom was complicated and now I am learning how that translates into a grief that is not without complication.

I have thrown myself into this campaign to raise money for baby llama, Callisto Stardust, in an effort to do something productive while processing how in the hell I’m supposed to handle this sorrow that continues to perplex & challenge me.

I’m finding that while one moment I’m laughing and completely okay, the next I’m in the bathroom stall of a public restroom bawling my eyes out after realizing that I won’t need to find a Christmas present for her this year.

Mom didn’t call before 8am to sing “Happy Birthday” referring to me as only she did, “Joy Beth.” (She’s the only one who has ever shortened my middle name of Elizabeth to Beth.) Once again something I never thought I would miss, I find myself longing to hear once more.

I’m learning.
Grief is grossly personal.
No two people will experience it the same way.
Including sisters. I’m certain I am processing & moving through the world differently than either of my sisters.
Guess what? That’s okay.

I know this has led to a great deal of judgment from those onlookers who know the person I was 2 decades ago. I’ve had to let go of that in an effort to get up in the morning and do basic life skills like brushing my teeth and making the bed.

This is a lingering grief. One I am now certain never goes away, only softens as healing continues. My hope is to learn from my experience in this that can only be described as the place after witnessing the valley of the shadow of death.

So instead of postponing or ignoring the many emotions that can surface all at once in this season, I’m asking it, as I do most things after the initial shock wears off,
“What are you here to teach me?”

I hesitated to ask in this case as I wasn’t sure I had the patience left to learn, but thankfully I have a group of the most badass women consisting of medical & mental health professionals as well as girlfriends who are willing to guide me while also pointing out potential pitfalls. If you do not have a therapist who truly sees and meets you right where you are while maintaining the goal of not leaving you there, l would strongly encourage you to seek one out.

These are the lessons I hope to be familiar enough with to share, offering hope to others not as far along in this classification no one chooses to join.

Teach me…

How to be a better listener,
When to keep my mouth shut,
When to explain my reasoning for why I’m not doing what everyone expects me to do,
How to be present with someone else’s pain,
When to sit in the silence many find deeply unsettling,
How to forgive someone for something they were not mindful of doing,
The meaning of acceptance without fully understanding.

I thought I had a decent grasp on grief. Not just one type, many.
Turns out, I’m still learning and growing.
And that, if nothing else, is beautiful.

(the gorgeous flowers around Mom’s pictures are all by my incredibly talented sister, Jennifer. Owner & Lead Designer of J. Riley Design.)

Little Brown Girl In The Sun

Posted on August 5, 2020 by Joy

I’ve never spoken about this.
I started to…many times.
The pain of the “what-if’s” was paralyzing, preventing my fingers from typing the words.

Every year when I see the social media posts with the red X’s I think,
“This is the year to talk about this. It’s time. Just sit down and write!”
And once again the fear of the potential tragedy and grief overwhelm me, leaving me unable to form the words.

A few days ago, the hashtag #savethechildren popped up in my feed. As I scrolled through the posts, there I was, back in the same headspace I’ve been for the last 4 years.

“Tell the story.
Her story.
Harper Rain…and Tuda…
That awful day…
Can I even remember the details correctly?
It’s too hard.
I can’t.
. . . . .
Someone needs this.
Someone needs to know they’re not alone.
Shine a light in the darkness.
Bring awareness.
Grieve openly with those who are personally affected.
Share the story.”

It took a few days, but here I am, fingertips to keys, words on paper.
Breaking my years-long silence with this story of how a beautiful, playful, unremarkable day could have ended in life-altering tragedy.

I was taking pictures of Harper as I’ve done since the day she was born.
My sister drove up, we had a wonderful day shooting.

She planned to stop at a large retail store on her way out of town, for a quick shopping trip.

The crowds were thicker than usual causing my sister to hold on to Harper a little tighter. As they were headed towards the exit, a well-dressed man moving swiftly through the crowd, grabbed Harper’s arm, pulling her from my sister’s grasp. Within seconds, Tuda was watching the stranger carry Harper towards the elevators leading to the parking deck.

She began screaming and running towards the man as Harper looked back at her, over the shoulder of the stranger.

Just before advancing through the open doors of the elevator, the man tripped, dropping Harper to the ground. An onlooker swept her up as the perpetrator slid through the now closing doors of the elevator. He was gone.

All of this happened in less than 60 seconds.

Out of breath, my sister approached the good Samaritan now holding her daughter, he quickly placed Harper in her mama’s arms.

Relief, adrenaline, horror, outrage, unconditional love, all swirled together in her mind and heart. “Thank you, God!”

The police arrived quickly to take statements and file a report.

The officer informed Tuda of a ring of human traffickers working the area in Atlanta. He had no doubt the man was headed for the elevator leading down to a running vehicle waiting to make a quick exit from the garage and onto the freeway.
“If he had made it to the car with her, the chances of you ever seeing your daughter again would have been slim to none,” he told her.

By this time the onlookers had mostly dispersed. The man who stuck his foot out tripping the predator, and scooping up our Harper, was nowhere to be found.

My sister, too shaken up to drive the 2-1/2 hours home, booked a hotel room. I arrived shortly after her call, alerting me to what had just taken place.

We watched Harper run around the room, playing in beams of light from the setting sun shining through the window…oblivious to the life-altering danger she was in a short time ago.

My sister and I said very little.

We sat in gratitude, with tears running down our cheeks and the sun’s warmth on our faces.

“Do you believe in angels?” You ask.
“Why, yes…without a doubt, I believe in angels.”

Below is a poem I wrote after leaving the hotel room that night while thanking God for sparing us from the living hell of what could have been.

“Little brown girl in the sun,
Little girl of only one,
Reaching higher for the light,
Don’t you know you burn so bright
Dancing in their golden hue
Don’t you know it’s all for you
Beams of love, protection, & grace
Swirl around and kiss your face
The Angels knew you at first sight
Precious one, adorned in light.”

– Joy Cannis
July 2, 2016
For Harper Rain

For more information on human trafficking visit one or all of these organizations.

My Brand of Crazy

Posted on July 11, 2018 by Joy

“I want to be a mouthpiece for hope not a megaphone for fear.”
– Joy Cannis Original

Now more than ever, we need someone to lift our face from the ground, back to what’s in front of us and up to the heavens, reminding us who we are and that there is greater purpose just beyond our edges of self-preservation. Recognizing and utilizing that which has been inside us all along. (Yet what we’ve been looking for everywhere but where it is.)

Stop waiting for hope to find you and be the hope right where you are. I am learning that the only way to become unstuck is to put one foot in front of the other until I’ve repositioned myself to excel and grow.

The last 18 months have been some of the most difficult in my journey.
My children have struggled beyond my ability to step in and rescue.
I weened off of a two-year opioid prescription.
I ran back into the arms of my eating disorder.
I cried on my doctor’s exam table.
I shared my testimony with thousands of women.
I entered into a season of intensive outpatient therapy.
I broke apart…shattered…into tiny pieces that I wasn’t sure could ever be repaired
until the Master Creator picked them up, one by one, sanctified each jagged edge and put me back together in a new way than I’ve ever been before.
And the Holy Spirit is present with me in a way I never thought possible.

Have you heard the saying, “Feelings are constantly changing so don’t rush to act on a certain/current feeling”? I have experienced a multitude of feelings in this season. I would go from sheer elation to utter hopelessness within the course of 24 hours. Sometimes more than once. Most days I felt like I was on the brink of insanity. I’m so grateful I didn’t act on any one particular feeling.

I think back to a time, 22 years ago, when the head of psychiatry at the treatment center where I had taken up temporary residency wrote, “This girl is narcissistic and beyond human aid!” on my treatment plan. I cut out of rehab 1 day shy of the required 30 and was therefore considered to have left “against doctor’s orders” and didn’t receive any of the personal items I had come in with. Nope. Just the clothes on my back. That was my m.o. You say I’m ________________ and I’ll prove it.

I stayed mad at that shrink for a long time. I replayed his words while picturing the scribbled notes in blue ink. I used it as an excuse to stay drunk.

Now, today, in this moment, I can tell you that doctor was right. His definition of me was spot on. I was “beyond human aid.” Which allows no room for doubt…

Only God.
Only God could heal what was fractured.
Only God could restore me to sanity.
Only God could allow me to be broken, once again in such a way that He alone could pick up each piece, breathe life back into it, and put me back together.

Although I have had a tribe of badass physicians, friends, prayer warriors and family surround me with their incredible courage, love, and support, God changed this girl’s heart. From the inside out. He gets all the credit.

I don’t know what “feeling” you’re sitting in today?
For what it’s worth, I’m living proof that yesterday’s feeling turns into today’s relief.
Whatever it is,
However hopeless or wonderful it “feels”,
It’s going to change.
So if it’s incredible, enjoy every moment
and if it’s seemingly unbearable,
Hold on.
Hold on.
Relief is coming.
Maybe not the way you are expecting or what you’re used to, but it’s there and it will be yours.

Stepping Back Into The Ring

Posted on July 10, 2018 by Joy

Quite some time has passed since we met here, in this space.
Enough time to have my hair bleached blonde, travel thousands of miles and remove any doubt that writing is part of who I am. I need it for my sanity as my lungs need air to breathe.

I have been writing.
Sporadically.
Going longer periods between has caused inner turmoil for which there is no other cure than meeting you here, more frequently, and being my fully authentic self.

Something happened last Spring. Something that would change the trajectory of my future.
I decided it was time to wean off some prescribed medication that I had been taking every day for 2 years for degenerative disc disease & chronic pain in L4, L5 & S1 of my spine.

Each one of our children was going through battles of their own which many times presented as a seemingly insurmountable obstacle.

I fell back into my eating disorder. Hard.
I was all in.

We were being pressed from every side… and I wasn’t handling it well.

We will dive into the most difficult year in the life of our family, through stories from the depths of my memory. Which means there is mentionable room for error. I thought I was being authentic before, but Darlins’ as the song says, “You Ain’t Seen Nothin’ Yet”

I should probably let you know that some subjects call for a 4-letter word (or two). I don’t mean to offend. I love Jesus, and I cuss a little. “Progress not perfection“, is my mantra.

This is a safe space to be vulnerable. I want to lead by example and to pretend I don’t say the “s” word, even when writing is lying, and we don’t want to build our relationship on a lie.

So here’s the deal…I won’t preach religion. I don’t think that’s what Jesus did, so I won’t.
I’m not going to pretend to be an expert on everything, although I do consider myself a master of my personal adventures. I believe I am a spiritual being having an earthly experience, not the other way around. (I’m 99.99% sure Oprah said that on Super Soul Sunday. I’m borrowing it now.)

What I will do is keep it real.

I will speak truth…my truth to the best of my ability and I will pray for each of you, every day, on this journey.

If you aren’t sure about God…believe that there is no God…are a bible beater…a seeker…a Jesus freak…a veteran Christian or anything in between, my hope is that something here will resonate in your gut and move you to positive action.

Thank you for taking the time out of this incredibly busy life to listen to my compilation of thoughts. I hope that you will visit often, leave encouraged and know that no matter what, you are not alone.

Remember this truth, God does not change and He is never surprised by anything. He created you with great purpose and there’s nothing you or anyone else can ever do to ruin that.

Love & Gratitude,

#ProdigalDaughter #Ransomed #Redeemed #Restored #Renewed #Refined #POTSC

I Have An Eating Disorder…What Should I Do?

Posted on July 29, 2017 by Joy

I have the privilege of sharing my story with women from all walks of life. To watch someone’s eyes change as they hear and embrace hope… well… there’s nothing else like it.
So when Emily invited me to be a part of her series, “Questions Everyone Is Asking But No One Wants To Answer” I gladly accepted. Em is the Founder of BecomingMe.tv and is making it her life’s mission to help women find their voice through the power of sharing their story. And friends, this is only the beginning.
My prayer is that something in this video will resonate with you and move you to positive action. May ours eyes be opened to the truth of what we are… a masterpiece in the making.

If you or someone you love is struggling with an eating disorder, please get help. It is serious and in many cases, a matter of life and death. You can start by visiting the National Eating Disorders Association.

If you are, like I was, broken & without hope, I beg you to reach out to someone at one of the resources listed below. As long as you are breathing, there is still hope.
People of the Second Chance
Central Christian Church: Las Vegas
To Write Love on Her Arms

The Heart of the Prodigal

Posted on August 17, 2016 by Joy

Tomorrow is a big, milestone birthday for me. 40 years. I have spent the last several weeks reflecting on the journey. Where I’ve been, where I am, where I’m going.

A huge part of my story is the journey through alcoholism and a decade long battle with an eating disorder. In this conversation with my dad, I ask him what it was like being on the other side of me when I was living my life as his prodigal daughter. Was he afraid? What made him keep pursuing me? How did he release control of me? What would he tell others going through this now.