Sound of Silence

Sometimes with BiPolar there comes a special kind of challenge- noise sensitivity. Now not everyone gets to deal with this but I want to share with you my brand of NS.

 

Imagine for a moment you are in a quiet room. Close your eyes. Listen to what you hear. Maybe a clock ticking? Maybe a floorboard creak? Maybe if it's quiet enough you can hear your heart beating? 

For me, when my NS decides to flare, because it cycles along with my moods, I hear EVERYTHING. The birds singing. The branch creaking with the bird's weight. Electricity buzzing. The clock ticking. The bed settling. Animals eating and playing. My hair as it moves. The neighbor's shower. My heartbeat. The floor creaking. Everything. 

Now I've always had sensitive ears- picking up on things no human should be able to hear such as dog whistles. I could hear them and it would make me want to cry. Looking back I could see where NS was playing a part in my behaviour. However, in the last year it has gotten horrible at times. 

The first time my husband found me crumpled on the floor, covering my ears and crying because it was all just too loud, he tried pulling me in a hug against his heartbeat-which is usually a comfort. This time it was just another noise and I pushed him away. He finally heard me say, "everything is just too loud. I can't..." and jumped up to grab his noise cancelling headphones. Plopped them on me and although it wasn't perfect it helped drastically, and that's how I cope now. I go into the bedroom with noise cancelling headphones and avoid sounds.

 

Though there are some days where my NS overwhelms me and it feels like static assaulting me, where my eardrums vibrate and try to jump out of my body, the majority of the days my NS isn't so bad and I can do cool things like pick up my phone before a notification/call/alarm goes off because the air changes a split second beforehand. Or know exactly what the kids are up to from several room away. Or or or. My husband teases me sometimes I have a super power because his hearing has never been this sharp, and that's how I try to view this. A gift. A super power. Anything to put a positive spin on those days I'm not able to do much more than sit with noise cancelling headphones.

There are positives in every situation and I need to do better at remembering that, but it's not all horrible and life really is amazing even with challenges. Isn't that what makes life flavourful? 

LOVES!!!

Snowballing It

Recently I was being a slug again. A depressed slug with NO motivation. Not even a morsel. And my entire apartment was a complete disaster- but especially my living room.

Guys. In that moment I was utterly disgusted with myself. Why couldn't I just pick up? My family deserves better. I'm scum. I'm terrible. Think of every negative you've EVER thought to yourself and I was probably thinking it about myself. Because isn't that what brains do? And isn't it so hard to stop those thoughts and actually BELIEVE positives about yourself?

UGH!

There I am kinda dying inside and screaming all these super negatives at myself and I glance down at my foot. Because feet aren't super gross at all and I super love them. *rolls eyes* Anyway, I look at my foot and I see a piece of trash RIGHT BY MY FOOT!

So I picked it up and I had the thought "may as well pick up the one near that one too." So I did. Here's the cool part, it kept growing and I didn't even realize it. Here I am still muttering to myself about not being good enough and I'm vacuuming the dang floor. VACUUMING!!!!!! My motivation effort to loathe myself just a little bit less, caused me to pick up one piece of trash and then the whole room. 

I know these days and thoughts so well. I've danced and tangled with them for as long as I can remember, but I also know that by snowballing it I make it through the day. Well, my alarm went off. Better kill that and while I'm up I'll go to the bathroom. Since I'm in here I may as well shower. It's sucks sometimes and there are times it feels as though my bed is literally sucking me in and has claimed me. But in 27 years my mental illness has not won. I have won. I have fought on days I don't feel like fighting. And some of those days I'm only up and fighting because I have a person acting as a pillar behind me- you are not alone. Whoever you are reading this right now, I'm your pillar. I'm cheering for you. Because you are important and worth it. 

LOVES!!!

When it Rains...

When it rains, it pours. I have heard that old adage a lot the last few months and have been guilty of saying it myself. More than I'll ever own up to. No, really, you don't want to know just how often I muttered it to myself or whined it to another human. Because isn't it easy to just see the negatives and confirm to yourself that only negative is happening. To only see the rain. Sure is for me.  

I was driving with my kids and they were being...kids...but I'm pretty sure not the humanoid kind, the literal goat kind. Fighting. Bouncing. Screaming. And my poor head was not up to handling them again. So I did the only reasonable thing- I started whining it to myself because so so so much was weighing down on me. Then my thoughts started wandering, which is dangerous in my mind-the exits are not clearly marked, and I began pondering springtime with rainstorms and sometimes downpours. Sometimes these storms can bring traffic to a halt and cause a disruption, but no matter how hard or how long they last they must come to an end. At the completion we find life renewed.

Did you catch that? Even the longest and hardest of storms come to an end and life is renewed. That. That slammed me in the chest and I'm pretty sure I stopped breathing for a second. My personal storms never last and at the finish there is so much good that came from it. So many blessings and tiny miracles I can see with the clouds gone from view.

You guys! I can't even word this. lskejrohsgh;lsha;ksjdjhnfsnglkj sjhgf;sjhd;flkjas. That's what happens when I try, but I wanted to tell you in my mixed up way that YOUR own storms will end. YOUR life is beautiful and YOUR life will be renewed. This is not going to beat you down.

LOVES!

Scars

People often have asked me why I don't cover or be ashamed of my scars. I've always responded with a quick "they're a part of my past" kind of answer, but I've been thinking about that question a lot lately and I'm not quite sure why.

There is a quote which goes "Never be ashamed of a scar. It simply means you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you." I've wrested with this quote for a while. I am stronger...than myself? What? Today I came across it and it clicked. I am stronger than the depression that tried to claim my life. That's why I don't hide my scars, although in the name of honesty I do need to say that I am saddened by them sometimes. I do grieve over them. But what makes me feel that way is not that I have them, but rather that I felt at one point that I needed to do that to myself. I've written before about self-harm. I haven't kept it secret and I don't try to hide them.

Most people, I think, don't notice them anymore. And for the most part, I don't either. I am stronger than my depression. I am stronger than the self-harm I performed for years.

I am stronger.

Returning to Him

For a couple years, Michael and I have fallen away from the church. There had been a lot of reasons for this: we felt slighted by some members of our ward and because of that we had planted the seeds of bitterness and harvested them. We felt that Heavenly Father simply wasn't aware of us and was giving us too much. I can't speak for Michael, but I know I was having thoughts of questioning whether I really believed what I had been taught by the missionaries in 2006. 

Life kept hitting us during this time and instead of allowing them to draw us closer to Heavenly Father, as trials are meant to do, we became even more bitter and enraged with Him. Who did He think He was? Why had He abandoned us during this difficult time? Where was His mercy and love when we needed it the most? I can't count the times I only turned to prayer to scream at Heavenly Father that I was done. That I was becoming disenchanted to not only Heavenly Father and His desires, but also to Christ. 

After a while, I had attempted to attend church again while the kids attended church with my in-laws. I felt out of place and lonely. I still felt bitter and angry toward members and because of that I did not feel that I belonged in the church building, let alone praying or reading my scriptures. Obviously, I was right to stay away. After a couple months of trying to solo coming back to my Heavenly Father, I do not know Michael's thoughts during this time and cannot speak for him, I stopped again. Only this time I seemed to really be done with the gospel. 

During that time I felt alone in a chaotic world and mine and Michael's relationship deteriorated. Horribly. We both just stopped putting in the effort of being married, started being overly passive aggressive, and not communicating. Sadly, this led to us separating for a month in 2015 (this is a post I'm not sure will be written. It sucked and was terrible. Awful and horrible.) and making me feel more alone and vulnerable. I didn't think I could turn to Heavenly Father, to be honest I don't think I considered it. He didn't care anyway.

 After Michael and I came back together, things were looking up. We have been working on improving ourselves continually and we have found that joy in being married again. We do the little things again. But something was still missing for awhile. I could never put my finger on what seemed to be off, but I was happy that Michael and I were doing well so I didn't really question it. I mean, I still had the questions rolling around in the back of my mind. Did I still believe in Heavenly Father? What would I be willing to do if I did still believe? Whenever they'd come to the front of my thoughts, I'd simply push them away for another time.

See, during all the time we were away, Heavenly Father didn't give up on either of us. We had more people praying for us than I ever thought possible. And you want to know something amazing? He heard them. And He answered them. It was not an overnight thing, but rather one of those things that builds up.

 May of this year (2016) Michael and I celebrated our six-year anniversary by going up to Brigham City, just the two of us. It was incredible! And where we were staying, was just blocks away from the Brigham City Temple. Of course we walked around and admired the beauty of it. My heart started aching though. I wanted to go in. I wanted that comfort. I wanted to walk those sacred halls once again. I was gobsmacked by this. Where were these feelings coming from? I thought I was done? Disenchanted? I kept silent about these promptings. I didn't know what Michael would think. Heck, I didn't know if I was willing to do the work to get back there or if I even still had the faith to believe. 

Well, about a week to two weeks after this I was on a "Yannie-Date" and was browsing Facebook on my phone. I came across an acquaintance's page that had a bunch of anti-LDS things on there including some videos that tore my heart to pieces. So, somewhere I still believed. What to do with that? I decided to ask one of my former young women leaders if her husband could give me a priesthood blessing. He said yes. I went to their home and Brian and I spent four hours talking about the Gospel and bearing testimonies, ending with a priesthood blessing.

 

The next day I asked Michael if we could go back to church-together- as well as read our scriptures, and a couple others things. He agreed and we attended church that Sunday. I felt safe and secure being there. I didn't feel excluded. I felt loved. 

We met with our bishop soon after returning to check in with him and work with him to get back to the temple. On Oct 8, 2016 we met with our bishop and had our interview with him and the Stake President interview followed the next Sunday. Oct 18, 2016, I had gone back to the temple for the first time in YEARS!! It was so simply wonderful. I felt that I had returned home. On the 21st of Oct, Michael and I returned together. 

I've had quite a few people ask me what made the difference, or comment how much I did to get back to church and to have the relationship with my Savior that I now have. Usually when these comments come up, I share the above experiences and kind of leave it at that but none of it would have been possible without 1) my Heavenly Father's love for me and my family, 2) my Redeemer and his atonement, 3) my willingness to work to apply Christ's atonement to not only cause me to heal from my sins but also all hurt I was feeling, and 4) Christ and Heavenly Father not caring where I was only wanting me to return. It is through Christ my heart has been turned. It is through Christ that I have found joy and fulfillment in life again. It is through Christ that I have been able to move forward. He has never abandoned me nor have I ever been alone and I never will be. 

Full breath

I have been drowning for eleven years. Eleven long years of not being able to breathe. Of being frightened out of my wits. Today, September 3, 2015, I was finally able to take a breath and breathe.

In 2004, I was raped by someone I did not know. I felt worthless and like trash. I was used garbage that no one would want. I was afraid that if anyone found out what had happened, they would ignore me, or worse blame me. That is exactly what happened-at first. I was treated the way I felt- like trash that needed to be gotten rid of as soon as possible. My friends that knew tried to support me to the best of their knowledge, but the damage was done. I was tainted. Even after marrying Michael I felt like I didn't deserve to live nor was I healthy enough to fully appreciate someone who truly believed that I was special and untainted.

The past two weeks I have been attending Intensive Outpatient Therapy through Provo Canyon Behavourial Hospital. The last couple days we have been talking about cognitive distortions-those thoughts we all have that are false-and how to challenge those thoughts by looking at the evidence both for the thought and against the thought. At first I thought that I would never be able to apply these principles to my thoughts, but I decided to try it.

I wrote down the situation, my initial thought and emotion, evidence for and against that initial thought, and then the realistic thought. So, what was that initial thought? I'm sure you can guess. It was "I'm worthless and it is all my fault." Do you how twisted that is? Someone took advantage of me, destroying themself in the process, and I thought it was my fault?! That was what I realized today.

It wasn't my fault.

It wasn't my fault.

It wasn't my fault. 

I finally knew the truth. I am a worthwhile person with a lot of people that love and care about me. It wasn't my fault that a man in his thirties raped a girl in her teens. It wasn't my fault that someone cared so little about themselves that they had to hurt a young girl to try to make themselves feel manly. It wasn't about me. It was about him. It was his decision. Yes it affected me, but he's the one that's going to have to answer for that.

Today I realized that I am no longer his victim. He no longer has control over me. Today I was able to get my head out of the water and breathe for the first time in eleven years, and it felt amazing. I suddenly felt like I could fly. I felt genuinely happy. I've let it go. I'll always remember that incident, but I can finally look back on it for what it is- a true learning experience.

Selfish

After reading one of these blog posts, I had someone inform me that I was being selfish for putting so much effort and time into becoming healthy. Their reasons were that I was taking time away from my children and husband and shouldn't be putting time into myself, that as a mom I need to put my children's needs above my own, and finally that mental illness is greatly exaggerated. I smiled when this person was relating their reasons why, in their mind, I am being selfish. When they finished I thanked them for their input and told them my reasons for being so serious about getting healthy.

1. I'm not taking time away from the family as much as I was when I was really ill. I couldn't take care of the kids, my husband, or myself and I wanted to leave them on a more permanent basis. That was taking time away from my family and their needs. With me getting better my children have their fun, energetic mom back and my husband has his wife back. Because I'm feeling like me again I am able to spend more time with my dear family and grow closer to them. We are able to play different games and I am coming up with creative ideas of how to bond with my family, and others. Yes, becoming healthy takes time but not as much time as being ill.

2. I am a worth while person and I deserve to have time put into myself. I have a lot to offer those around me and I'm not going to shrink away from shining anymore. I am valuable. I am priceless. I am special. I have a right to put some time into myself.

3. I agree that as a mom I should be putting my children's needs above most of my wants, but there is a line there. If I am constantly addressing the needs of my wonderful children, and never acknowledging mine, I become an empty shell again. If I were to have a good day would depend on the behaviour of the children. Were they good? Were they happy? I would be thrown into a pit of despondency whenever they were to throw a temper tantrum. I do know they have needs and I meet those needs, but I cannot place them on a pedestal above me. It's like when you're on a plane and you are told to put the oxygen mask on yourself before your children. Is it because as parents we're more important than our children? No. It's because we will not be able to help them if we are unconscious ourselves. I can't help my family if I don't help me.

4. I believe that a lot of people have a set standard of mental illness. "It's something that can't ever go away. If you are mentally ill you need to be institutionalized. If you have a mental illness you're less of a person. I don't know how to interact with someone who says they have a mental illness. Etc..." In other words, there are stigmatizations with regards to illnesses. And yes, some may be true...to an extent, but overall you can't usually tell that someone is suffering with depression, anxiety, or other sicknesses unless they tell you. I've posted before about how mental illness is a real thing and needs to be treated like a real thing, but the people that have them are real people and need to be treated as such. They are not able to "just get over it," nor can they simply decide to "not have it [mental illnesses] anymore because it's not working for them," and they are not being lazy.

After speaking with this person, they still did not agree with me and you know what? That's okay. I know my worth and my strength from having a mental illness and I know that I do not need to dignify the stigmatization of having depression and anxiety. This person was floored that I am taking such a positive position on becoming well and insisted that because I'm doing so well I "obviously never had a mental illness in the first place." Ok. This person has their opinions and that's ok. At least now they understand my position a bit better.

I have depression but I am not depressed. It is not who I am. My illness does not define me.