Hello one and all!
The past few weeks have been really hard. My depression has been absolutely horrible. I feel like I say that all the time, but some days/moments that's all I can feel, so it does take up a lot of my time.
I've made a blog schedule for the next few months, most of which was supposed to get done the last two months, but my life was crazy so that didn't happen. I have a lot of great blog content in the works that I would love to share with all of you. However, with the current state of my health and how hard I am working to combat it, I don't usually have time, energy, or motivation to finish producing those things. I still have them all written on my blog planning board so that when I'm ready, they will get done. But if working on those things and meeting deadlines that I've already missed is causing me stress just to think about, I don't want to do it and I don't want to make myself do it. Writing every day is really important for me, but right now I want to focus on writing only the things my heart is drawn to and that bring me peace. I'm currently really drawn to a character-based project I'm working on personally; I started writing my first play and I've found a lot of comfort in the characters and stories there. I also need to work on journaling more because I have struggled in the past year to let myself participate in self-reflection, which is vital to existing, I think.
While the blog projects I have planned will be on hold, however, I don't want to be completely MIA from the blog. I love it here, but I just can't bring myself to work on things that are bringing me stress to just think about. I'm focused on healing and improving right now. So this is a new series called "This is Me Trying" (yes, that's for us, Swifties), and hopefully it won't be around too frequently, but it's just for me to get on the blog and write about whatever I want when I can't write about anything else and this is the best I can do.
With that said, the remainder of this post may get a little triggering/disturbing regarding depression and disordered eating.
I'm lucky to say that I have been finding a lot of solutions lately. Over the past few weeks, I've been able to identify some specific problems I'm facing. I've known for a hot minute that I need to go back to therapy since this has been a hard year for depression in general, but I didn't know what I would even talk about. I didn't want to walk in and just be like, "Hey, I'm really sad but I don't know why." But things that have been happening recently have gotten me reflecting on quite a few things, and I realized there are a lot of problems I have buried. Now that they're identified, I feel ready to work on them. I'm going to start seeing a therapist again within the next two weeks.
I've also been working on my sleep and exercise routines, because those things can really change the game for depression. It has been so helpful, and I'm working every day to get better. I hate to sound like a downer by talking about what I'm going through all the time, but while it's true that I am really struggling right now, I am happy to say that there is so much hope involved. I feel God beside me and I feel the improvement ahead of me and with me right now even.
Some things you expect about depression, despite still being unsettling, like crying your eyeballs out and having an anxiety attack as you lie in bed waiting to fall asleep, or like standing on a balcony or by a train track and picturing the worst thing possible happening to the people around you. What people frequently forget to mention is how absolutely gross depression is. My gosh, my room is a mess. Before I got home from my mission, I was definitely the neatest of all of my siblings, but now it's like I can't seem to keep a space clean for my life. I have to work so hard to make sure I have the right amount of nutrition/hydration/sleep to be able to do anything, so the idea of cleaning my room can be really exhausting a lot of the time. Taking a shower is so difficult. I find myself eating at irregular times because I'm afraid of doing it at normal times of the day. Everything just feels super ugly and messy. People know that depression is sad. Sometimes we forget to mention that it is so much more; sometimes it's just plain vile.
My depression almost affected my life for the worst in a new way this last week. On July 31, I had a mission reunion. President Cordon and Sister Cordon moved on to their new assignment. They are done with being the California Los Angeles Mission president and have moved on to be the area presidency of the North America West area of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We all got together at Brother Galorath and Sister Galorath's home in Provo, Utah. I was so scared to go that I almost backed out. It was the cause of many anxiety attacks, and I cried about it nearly every day approaching the event. What was I so afraid of?
The truth is sad and disgusting, as all things with depression are. I hadn't seen most of my mission friends in quite awhile, and a lot of them live in northern Utah, so most of them are together most of the time. I was scared that if I showed up to this party with all my mission pals, I would be with people that are already always with each other, and I would be the odd one out. No one would want me there. Nobody would care whether or not I had showed up. It had been so long, so many of the friends I had made on my mission didn't even feel real.
A lot of things about my missionary service didn't feel real. I realized I don't let myself think about it much. My little brother, Jacob, recently began his own missionary service for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. With him beginning his own incredible journey, it brought me to a lot of reflection on my own. When I would try to recall a lot of awesome memories, I realized it was incredibly difficult. And I don't mean it was emotionally difficult. I mean it was like I physically could not bring myself to hold onto a memory for my life. Everyone knows that this is a pretty common symptom of depression, but I noticed that it was more specifically with mission memories. I had trained myself to not think about my missionary service. I did definitely go through periods of time over the last year that made it more painful to think about my mission, but I think the main contributor to this is how a lot of people made me feel when I had first returned. The guilt that people make return missionaries feel for talking about and thinking about their mission is disgusting. The longer I was home, the more guilty or embarrassed I would feel for bringing up anything surrounding the subject. Literally anything. I have loved and adored California, and specifically LA, since the first time I went there. I'm a film student. But even the mere mention of California in a conversation made me want to run and hide. To anyone and everyone: people talk about their lives. They should not feel guilty for talking about their lives. Take some time to consider that when a return missionary talks about her/his missionary service, she/he is talking about some of the most special experiences and memories she/he has up to that point. That is something she/he has lived and breathed for the past couple of years of her/his life. It is as natural as you bringing up whatever happened to you a few months ago. It is completely normal. How dare you?
As you can see, I'm quite angry about it, and what I'd come to realize is that I was quite angry about a lot of things. The above statements and more made me realize my mission had grown a negative connotation within me, something I never wanted to talk or think about. It just didn't feel good. It was a heartbreaking realization. One of the most sacred things in my life, something I had worked the majority of my teenage years for (and the first year of my twenties), something I had prayed for and waited for so long in my life, now brought me pain, anxiety, or even resentment to think about. I didn't want to be in a room of people from that time of my life. That would bring up even more resentment; these people were my best friends, my family even, and now I hardly ever talk to them. I was more vulnerable and open with them than I have been for most of my life. Looking back as a woman who tries to play tough sometimes to the point that she can't feel anything, I feel so much anger that I shared so much of myself, even with people that meant the world to me, just to be so far away from them now.
However, I prayed. Some of my plans in going north got conflicted, and I told God in the middle of the night one night, after yet another mental breakdown regarding this reunion, that I didn't even know if I was going to go anymore. It seemed like I wouldn't be able to, and no one would miss me if I didn't go anyway. Or better yet, maybe they would miss me, and me not being there would make them realize how much. I talked through this with God, and then a feeling came to me so clearly that I said it out loud: "This is going to change my life, isn't it?"
I was overwhelmed by the thought of, Yes, it absolutely is. You need to go.
Of course at that point I was sobbing even harder, because that is terrifying. I didn't even know if I wanted to go. But now I knew I needed to. I slept on it, and everything felt better. I woke up with a clear thought of a new plan. I felt good about the things that were going to happen. I felt at peace. Did I want to go? I had no idea, but at that point it felt divine so I felt determined. I was getting there no matter what it took.
It took some working out. It took a lot of crying. It took a lot of talks with my family. I made a deal with myself, unhealthy as it was, that if I at least showed up I wouldn't have to eat. (Sometimes it's about compromise, people.) But I did get there. My friend Emily and I both live in Cedar City and reported to the mission at the same time, so we got to drive up together. It was a blast listening to Taylor Swift and One Direction, and even talking with her about the reasons I was so afraid to go to the reunion. It felt good to talk to her about the things that were bothering me, that I had confessed to very few people, especially since she was a sister training leader of mine on the mission, so we had had similar talks before. My dad's aunt Sherri was generous enough to let me stay in her home for the weekend--and was kind enough to not say anything when I started crying after she asked how the reunion went.
The reunion was amazing. I was terrified of no one caring if I showed up, but it was amazing to see so many friends. People that I had barely known on the mission wanted to talk to me. The few people that knew how hard it was for me to show up congratulated me on how brave I was for coming and said they were glad I came. It's special to be around people that you dedicated so much time to serving God with. It really is a reminder of the amazing miracles that have happened in my life, and how many angels God has granted me, especially in that period of time. I can't even begin to tell you how wonderful it was to be able to see Sister Cordon again--she greeted me with the same words she always does, "Beautiful Day!" I can't begin to tell you how great it was to get to hug President Cordon (some of my friends said that was weird, but pals, I've been waiting two straight years for that moment), to have him ask about my depression and being able to tell him that it's been a hard year but I'm finding solutions. How great it was to have people ask about Jacob's missionary service and how he was doing. Finding out that an old companion of mine has a sister that is going to his mission and reported at the same time as him, and my president telling me that Jacob has a great example in me of what a missionary should be.
President Cordon and Sister Cordon had us all sit down so they could share a devotional with us. It was exactly what I needed to hear. They said that being a disciple of Jesus Christ doesn't mean just doing things. It is in fact much more about becoming. If we wanted to follow Jesus, we couldn't just do what we needed to be doing, we needed to try to be a better person every day. They said that the thing people usually miss the most about the mission is the spiritual experiences, and President said that those spiritual experiences come through service. I've decided to make service a huge priority in my life, because I know that is the best thing I can do as a daughter of God, a disciple of Christ, and a person who loves others and is looking for personal happiness.
After the reunion, I went with a few of my closest friends to see the sequel to my favorite movie. A Quiet Place Part II had stopped playing in the Cedar City cinema, so when I realized I was spending a weekend in Provo, I knew it was my perfect and probably only chance. When my mom suggested to me that I get a few of the friends to go with me while I was there, I was afraid and the thought hadn't even kind of crossed my mind before. Remember, I literally almost didn't show up to the reunion because I was afraid no one would even want me there. But I had a blast with my besties. They really are some of my best friends, and I think that was something I forgot. It was nice to remember how alone I'm not. And of course A Quiet Place Part II was another masterpiece by the Krasinski-Blunt family and rest of the amazing crew.
While I was there, I did on occasion wonder what the life-changing element of the weekend was supposed to be. But when I got back home to Cedar City, it was so incredibly clear. I had more positive feelings about my mission than I'd had in a long time. I had spent so much time shoving the memories of my mission away because remembering my mission made me feel guilty. With every recollection, I felt like someone was shaming me for it. But when I had the privilege to be around my angels again and to remember the wonderful times and experiences that we had together, it brought joy back into a really major part of my life. It reminded me of a lot of great relationships that I almost subconsciously had forgotten I had. My life was changed indeed.
I'll have you know that I spent about a month writing this post, which is pretty much why this post exists in the first place. I have so much amazing content lined up for the rest of the year, but I'm trying to take it easy, and if a post rambling on my most recent thoughts is the most I can do, then that's what I'm going to do.
Life has been so wild this year, but I have not given up. Not even close. I try my best every day, and sometimes I do my best. However, sometimes I don't, and I need to be okay with owning up to the fact that I did less than what I could do that day. Other days, I need to be okay with the fact that my best isn't as good as it usually is, because it's just a bad day, but that doesn't mean it wasn't my best. Don't be discouraged by hard days. We're all just trying our best, and whatever you can do is enough. That's why I'm a Chritian; every day I am increasingly aware of what I can't do, but I don't need to be able to do those things. I'm saved by the grace of God, because he can do it all. He does everything I can and can't do.
*insert sappy One Direction lyrics here, something from the first two albums preferably* You have all of my love.
