I used to be good at sending out Christmas letters. But I guess I'm getting lazy. So I'm just putting this here in case anyone cares :)
Lucas (19) decided in April that he wanted to join the US Navy. On November 16th he was sworn in and he is currently in Illinois completing basic, and will graduate January 12th. We don't hear much from him, which isn't that different from when he was here in Utah. Jason is very proud of him, you can see a sparkle in his eyes when we mention Lucas' name.
Lilly (18) is a senior this year, she can't wait to graduate and hopes to move to Portland area for college. She is a great student with several scholarships offered. She won first place in the school's art show, which was judged by professional artists. Lilly is a best friend to Carson, Vanessa, and Faith, whether she likes it or not. They just flock to her when she comes to visit. Her visit to Cambodia was a wonderful experience and she loves to talk about it.
Jeanine (16) started working at a pizza place in Salt Lake, but it was a bit too stressful so she decided to take a break from that. She is a beautiful person inside and out, and the kids love to sit with her. She draws amazing patterns with intricate details, which Vanessa and Faith love to have her draw on their hands and arms.
Anthonio (16) is still going strong in sports. He loves basketball, soccer, and cross country. He loves to tease and has a great sense of humor. He was involved in the state science fair and he is in in a math Olympiad group. We know he will be successful in all he does.
Karleah (16) is really getting in to theater. While working as a sweeper at an elementary school, she saved up enough money to go to New York and saw 6 Broadway plays in 5 days. She wrote, cast, directed, and performed in a one-act play. She performed in an ensemble and the Shakespearean Festival, and is going on tour next spring with the theater and music departments at her school. Another passion is music, and she saved up enough money to attend Imagine Dragons in concert, her favorite group.
Caranina (14) is also an amazing artist, with an eye for detail and beauty. She loves sports, especially soccer, and went to a RSL game for her birthday earlier this year. She is compassionate and gentle, a good student, and a loving, polite daughter. Always first to say "thank you" and "please", and she is such a fun sister for TJ.
Nathanael (12) is in 6th grade and can't wait to get out of elementary. He has a few close friends, and he had a great birthday party. He just received the Aaronic priesthood and is excited to start passing the sacrament each Sunday. He loves bowling, arcades, miniature golf, and YouTube. With his birthday money, he begged me to use it to play laser tag. He was so adamant, he even offered to help pay for his siblings to play, and we had a lot of fun.
Carson (9) is still struggling emotionally. He has a huge heart, and intense emotions for such a little guy so it can be a challenge. But he's improving and the happy times are starting to increase. He is funny and loves to do puzzles, dot-to-dots, or cut paper into tiny shreds all over the living room. He loves making things, especially gifts for friends, teachers, and parents.
Vanessa (9) is the DIVA of the family. She loves Disney TV and acts like a teenager. I often find myself saying "you obviously have 4 teenage sisters". Vanessa is a social butterfly, chatting the ear off every cashier, bagger, or cart collector at any store. She makes friends wherever she goes and she is a wonderful "mini mom" to TJ (sometimes he doesn't want anyone but Vanessa!)
Faith (7) is loving 2nd grade, and learning Spanish in the dual language immersion program. She is good at math, and an excellent reader. She loves to draw and color, and if I haven't heard any noise from her in a while, I can be certain she is getting into something and making a huge mess. She loves to laugh, and makes everyone laugh with her nonsense jokes.
TJ (1) is the light of our family. He loves to be chased around by the younger kids, and teased by the older ones. He knows how to climb on anything and is completely fearless about jumping off of whatever he climbs on. He is communicating with a few signs and learning a few words. His favorite word is "Papa" and he cannot wait to see Jason after work. His other favorite words are "ball" "there" and "Jesus".
Jason and Amberleah are staying busy with work, and all the kids' activities. It's hard to believe that we got married almost 3 years ago, but we are looking forward to many years to come, and love to make plans and talk about our dreams for the future, including a couples mission once the kids are old enough.
We hope that all of our friends and family have joy in life, and that you have had a wonderful spirit in your home all year, and especially at Christmastime.
Love,
the White/Stucky family
Sunday, December 17, 2017
Silent No More
I thought we were past the point of depression being taboo. I thought that, even though it's hard to talk about, it is finally being more recognized. It is something that has to be addressed. I thought everybody understood that. I was wrong.
When I was 9, my mom started on anti-depressants. I remember the change in her, it was HUGE. She was fun, outgoing, and happy. I heard her talk to others about being on anti-depressants, and I didn't know what a taboo subject it was because my mom was so open. As I grew older, I learned that a lot of people had really judged her for that. I know that must have been hard. But she never stopped talking about it.
When I started anti-depressants and counseling in the summer of 1997, my mom encouraged me to talk to friends about it. I refused! I was embarrassed and afraid of judgment. I don't know why, when I had seen my mom talk so openly about it; but I was. The only time I have ever successfully gone off medication since that time was when I was pregnant with Karleah. We had tried for 2 years, and I think that elation overrode my depression for a while. When she was a few weeks old, I found a doctor and asked for a prescription. He told me it was stupid to expect to stay on it my whole life. I got my prescription and never went back to him.
When my anti-depressants stopped working in my early 30s, and I took several months to get on the right concoction of medication to help me, I was discouraged from saying too much about it. Some that I did try to talk to were uncomfortable.
In 2011 (I think) someone I knew was hospitalized for about 10 days for suicidal ideation. I was told to keep it to myself. I was left to deal with it all on my own, very few had any idea why this person was in the hospital.
In 2016 a close friend was hospitalized, after going to an ER and arguing that she needed help, even if she didn't already have a suicide plan in place, she needed some help. She was finally admitted, but finds it hard to find people that she can talk to about it openly.
In May of this year, another person I care about was hospitalized with suicidal ideation. I was told not to tell anyone. I was again left all alone to carry the burden. I cried for hours at a time, for several days. If the kids weren't home, I was crying. When they were home, I was fighting it. This time, I was jealous of the help she received. I needed that too, and I felt like nobody realized how seriously I was struggling.
Last weekend, yet another person in my life was taken to the ER with suicidal ideation. I have been told, once again, not to talk about it. I have been lashed out at for anything I say about it. I was told that because I dared say anything to anyone I had caused undue stress on others involved. Apparently they are embarrassed. When I told them they had nothing to be ashamed of and maybe if we talked about this more, they wouldn't end up going to the ER. I was again told to keep quiet about it all. I should have lied about why she is in the hospital.
Today, inspired by my mother's courage from 28 years ago, I want to stop the silence. I will not keep my struggles inside, I will not "cover up" what is happening. I will respect the privacy of others, but I will not keep trying to trudge through my struggles without talking about it, and reaching out. I will not let others dictate my life. So, here goes.....
I have been in the dark place since I was pregnant with TJ. It's been almost 2 years of constant racing thoughts, suicidal thoughts, discouragement, anger, jealousy, depression, and more. I have tried to just "tough it out". I have tried to dedicate myself to helping others, or being more devoted to my home and family. I even doubled my dosage, and it hasn't helped. I finally started counseling, and so far that hasn't helped either. I have had panic attacks nobody sees, and anxiety nobody knows about. I need help, and I can't get it. The only way to get any serious help, in a timely manner, is to attempt suicide.
We see commercials and posters about teen suicide rates. We hear about how high a percentage the US has of depressed people (especially teens) and we have crisis lines in place. We have psych wards, therapists, psychiatrists, and medical professionals. And yet, the ONLY way to be taken seriously is to overdose. Slit your wrists. Jump in front of a train. Pull out a gun. We have come a long way, but we have so much farther to go.
When I was 9, my mom started on anti-depressants. I remember the change in her, it was HUGE. She was fun, outgoing, and happy. I heard her talk to others about being on anti-depressants, and I didn't know what a taboo subject it was because my mom was so open. As I grew older, I learned that a lot of people had really judged her for that. I know that must have been hard. But she never stopped talking about it.
When I started anti-depressants and counseling in the summer of 1997, my mom encouraged me to talk to friends about it. I refused! I was embarrassed and afraid of judgment. I don't know why, when I had seen my mom talk so openly about it; but I was. The only time I have ever successfully gone off medication since that time was when I was pregnant with Karleah. We had tried for 2 years, and I think that elation overrode my depression for a while. When she was a few weeks old, I found a doctor and asked for a prescription. He told me it was stupid to expect to stay on it my whole life. I got my prescription and never went back to him.
When my anti-depressants stopped working in my early 30s, and I took several months to get on the right concoction of medication to help me, I was discouraged from saying too much about it. Some that I did try to talk to were uncomfortable.
In 2011 (I think) someone I knew was hospitalized for about 10 days for suicidal ideation. I was told to keep it to myself. I was left to deal with it all on my own, very few had any idea why this person was in the hospital.
In 2016 a close friend was hospitalized, after going to an ER and arguing that she needed help, even if she didn't already have a suicide plan in place, she needed some help. She was finally admitted, but finds it hard to find people that she can talk to about it openly.
In May of this year, another person I care about was hospitalized with suicidal ideation. I was told not to tell anyone. I was again left all alone to carry the burden. I cried for hours at a time, for several days. If the kids weren't home, I was crying. When they were home, I was fighting it. This time, I was jealous of the help she received. I needed that too, and I felt like nobody realized how seriously I was struggling.
Last weekend, yet another person in my life was taken to the ER with suicidal ideation. I have been told, once again, not to talk about it. I have been lashed out at for anything I say about it. I was told that because I dared say anything to anyone I had caused undue stress on others involved. Apparently they are embarrassed. When I told them they had nothing to be ashamed of and maybe if we talked about this more, they wouldn't end up going to the ER. I was again told to keep quiet about it all. I should have lied about why she is in the hospital.
Today, inspired by my mother's courage from 28 years ago, I want to stop the silence. I will not keep my struggles inside, I will not "cover up" what is happening. I will respect the privacy of others, but I will not keep trying to trudge through my struggles without talking about it, and reaching out. I will not let others dictate my life. So, here goes.....
I have been in the dark place since I was pregnant with TJ. It's been almost 2 years of constant racing thoughts, suicidal thoughts, discouragement, anger, jealousy, depression, and more. I have tried to just "tough it out". I have tried to dedicate myself to helping others, or being more devoted to my home and family. I even doubled my dosage, and it hasn't helped. I finally started counseling, and so far that hasn't helped either. I have had panic attacks nobody sees, and anxiety nobody knows about. I need help, and I can't get it. The only way to get any serious help, in a timely manner, is to attempt suicide.
We see commercials and posters about teen suicide rates. We hear about how high a percentage the US has of depressed people (especially teens) and we have crisis lines in place. We have psych wards, therapists, psychiatrists, and medical professionals. And yet, the ONLY way to be taken seriously is to overdose. Slit your wrists. Jump in front of a train. Pull out a gun. We have come a long way, but we have so much farther to go.
Thursday, September 21, 2017
The Grass Wasn't Always Green Here
We all do it.
See something we want. Someone we want to be. Always craving happiness we think we are missing, without realizing the "behind-the-scenes" of the situation we envy. Without knowing all that it took for that person to be where they are, without knowing that we are probably viewed as the "greener grass" at times.
I've had a few people tell me they are jealous that I have found my "Mr. Right" or telling me how lucky I am to have all I have now, 11 kids. What some don't know is the H-E-double-hockey-sticks I went through to get here. Some know a little of it, some have helped me through a lot of it.
There were times when I felt buried, overwhelmed by the darkness around me. There were times when I wondered if I would ever be happy, or if I even deserved to be happy. At times, I wondered if I would ever have a child. Then, I wondered if I'd ever have more than one. Before my divorce, as things started to crumble, I wondered if I'd ever survive the situation. I wondered if I would be strong enough to leave. In my days of single motherhood, I never imagined I'd be where I am. I cried a lot, I prayed even more.
I am in a good place, right now. But that could change in an instant, because I have bipolar disorder/depression/anxiety. I have a wonderful husband, he makes me smile every day. I have 11 children I love, even though sometimes they don't even like me. But it's been hard, and it still is. Blending a family has challenges I never could have thought of. Having an ex-, and dealing with his ex-, is hard. Really, really, really HARD sometimes.
Yet, the envy still creeps in. I envy friends that haven't seen the darkness like I have. At least I don't think they have. I desire the simple, happy life some of my friends have. But I have to remember, that those dark times, those challenges, and the hard things I've survived, are part of what brought me to this happiness. It makes me appreciate the simpler things, and I realize that I can handle a lot more than I realized before.
Often, on social media I see comments like "you deserve to be happy" or "you deserve (fill-in-the-blessing)". Don't we ALL deserve to be happy, to be blessed? Even when we don't feel like we deserve it, which is something I feel frequently, Heavenly Father wants to bless us. He is sending blessings we don't even see, and may not ever recognize in this life. Each of us is on our own path, the one meant for us. The route that will teach us the lessons we need to learn. Remember the grass can be green, luscious, soft, and weed-free if we focus our attention on it. Cliché as it may sound. And when there are dark spots, or thorns, we just have to get the right "stuff" to fix it.
See something we want. Someone we want to be. Always craving happiness we think we are missing, without realizing the "behind-the-scenes" of the situation we envy. Without knowing all that it took for that person to be where they are, without knowing that we are probably viewed as the "greener grass" at times.
I've had a few people tell me they are jealous that I have found my "Mr. Right" or telling me how lucky I am to have all I have now, 11 kids. What some don't know is the H-E-double-hockey-sticks I went through to get here. Some know a little of it, some have helped me through a lot of it.
There were times when I felt buried, overwhelmed by the darkness around me. There were times when I wondered if I would ever be happy, or if I even deserved to be happy. At times, I wondered if I would ever have a child. Then, I wondered if I'd ever have more than one. Before my divorce, as things started to crumble, I wondered if I'd ever survive the situation. I wondered if I would be strong enough to leave. In my days of single motherhood, I never imagined I'd be where I am. I cried a lot, I prayed even more.
I am in a good place, right now. But that could change in an instant, because I have bipolar disorder/depression/anxiety. I have a wonderful husband, he makes me smile every day. I have 11 children I love, even though sometimes they don't even like me. But it's been hard, and it still is. Blending a family has challenges I never could have thought of. Having an ex-, and dealing with his ex-, is hard. Really, really, really HARD sometimes.
Yet, the envy still creeps in. I envy friends that haven't seen the darkness like I have. At least I don't think they have. I desire the simple, happy life some of my friends have. But I have to remember, that those dark times, those challenges, and the hard things I've survived, are part of what brought me to this happiness. It makes me appreciate the simpler things, and I realize that I can handle a lot more than I realized before.
Often, on social media I see comments like "you deserve to be happy" or "you deserve (fill-in-the-blessing)". Don't we ALL deserve to be happy, to be blessed? Even when we don't feel like we deserve it, which is something I feel frequently, Heavenly Father wants to bless us. He is sending blessings we don't even see, and may not ever recognize in this life. Each of us is on our own path, the one meant for us. The route that will teach us the lessons we need to learn. Remember the grass can be green, luscious, soft, and weed-free if we focus our attention on it. Cliché as it may sound. And when there are dark spots, or thorns, we just have to get the right "stuff" to fix it.
Thursday, August 3, 2017
Dejá vu
While eating dinner, I looked at my first born daughter. My beautiful Karleah "barley". I don't remember the words we spoke, but I had such a strong feeling, like deja vu, but not like I'd ever experienced before.
I recalled "watching" that moment before. When I was at a low point during the divorce. When I was losing faith in His plan for me. I remembered the moment I felt the presence of TJ next to me, without seeing or knowing him. Without even knowing if the baby I sensed was a boy or a girl. I recalled looking at a teenage daughter, a tween son, Carson, Vanessa, and Faith were older but I know my babies.
I remember peace washing over me as I knew this was my future. Part of His plan for me. The present - day me remembered knowing my husband was picking up my step children. I knew that this was my beautiful, happy, future life.
I recall knowing that I wouldn't remember what I was witnessing. Knowing that it was just a glimpse given to me when I needed hope.
As I relived this moment for the first time, I was reminded what a beautiful life I've been blessed with. Blending a family is hard. I get frustrated, discouraged, angry, depressed, and I often fall short of being the person I know I should be.
In that moment, I was given just as much peace and comfort as I had been given years before. My faith in His plan was again strengthened, and I am so grateful for the reminder.
I recalled "watching" that moment before. When I was at a low point during the divorce. When I was losing faith in His plan for me. I remembered the moment I felt the presence of TJ next to me, without seeing or knowing him. Without even knowing if the baby I sensed was a boy or a girl. I recalled looking at a teenage daughter, a tween son, Carson, Vanessa, and Faith were older but I know my babies.
I remember peace washing over me as I knew this was my future. Part of His plan for me. The present - day me remembered knowing my husband was picking up my step children. I knew that this was my beautiful, happy, future life.
I recall knowing that I wouldn't remember what I was witnessing. Knowing that it was just a glimpse given to me when I needed hope.
As I relived this moment for the first time, I was reminded what a beautiful life I've been blessed with. Blending a family is hard. I get frustrated, discouraged, angry, depressed, and I often fall short of being the person I know I should be.
In that moment, I was given just as much peace and comfort as I had been given years before. My faith in His plan was again strengthened, and I am so grateful for the reminder.
Monday, May 29, 2017
A Persecution Complex
Do you ever feel like everyone is out to get you? One of "those days" when it seems like nobody really cares about you or your feelings/struggles? Ever feel completely alone, and worthless? I think we all struggle with this to some extent. With depression/Bipolar it's almost a constant feeling. A never-ending battle. My good friend, who also has bipolar disorder, said "I just wish people could see how hard I'm trying. If only people knew what it takes!" I told Jason the other day "if some people had to deal with the racing, obsessive, negative thoughts that I have constantly, they'd probably go crazy. But at least they would understand."
I've described it as the TV shows where a character is faced with a decision. On one shoulder there is an angel, and on the other shoulder sits a devil. The character has to decide which to listen to, and looks back and forth from angel to devil. This is my life, when I am in the darkness. It is a constant, daily struggle to decipher the angel's voice from the devil's. Thoughts about worthlessness, being ugly, fat, stupid, and lazy are always there. Even though I know that they're not true, or at least I hope they aren't, it is a battle to keep those thoughts away. If you hear something often enough, it must be true, right? Well, I have the negative thoughts almost every waking moment. Can you imagine? And people wonder why sometimes a person with bipolar/depression/anxiety can't get out of bed.
I have (in another blog) mentioned how I have struggled with depression, suicidal ideation, and low self-esteem since early childhood. I can remember in preschool, when I would sit in the gutter and play with the dirt because I felt I didn't deserve better. I imagined all across the world, children were taught to love everyone as Jesus did, except for me. I once had someone tell me that it was very selfish, to think that people across the globe knew me, even if they were taught to hate me..... I used to think that every time there was a prayer said, I was the only person actually closing my eyes and everyone else was staring at me in disgust. I drove my mom crazy with the constant fear of speaking to others. I whispered everything to her, and her alone. Throughout my life, when a teacher or peer would talk about how they loved "everyone" in a group, I just knew that meant everyone besides me.
At one point, I was probably about 9, my mom told me that I had a persecution complex. I had no idea what that meant, and she said that I thought everyone was out to get me. I thought to myself "I don't think that, I know that." and I wondered why my mom didn't know that.
In the summer of 1997, I started counseling and was placed on anti-depressants. I almost forgot about the constant, nagging thoughts of worthlessness. I found a new sense of self. I felt like I was worthwhile, and I could be happy.
Twice since then, the darkness has come back in full force, and both times the persecution complex was there. I didn't even recognize that until a few days ago. Few knew the depth of my depression because I was still functioning. I showered, got dressed, went to work/church, and did my best to keep up with the house and kids. Like my friend said; if only people knew how hard I was trying, maybe the comments on my failures would have been less frequent. Judgements about my parenting, comments about laziness at home or work, and my failures as a wife. Perhaps the people that turned their backs on me would have realized how harsh they were. I would say they damaged me, or hurt me, but I found strength and I moved past that. I did learn some valuable lessons about the power of words. I learned that you can not assume anything about a person, just because they seem to have everything together.
No amount of words seem to counteract the negativity. Logically, I know that I am not as bad as the obsessive thoughts lead me to believe. Spiritually, I know that God loves me and I am worthwhile. But I still have to fight that devil on my shoulder, and that is harder than most people could ever understand.
I've described it as the TV shows where a character is faced with a decision. On one shoulder there is an angel, and on the other shoulder sits a devil. The character has to decide which to listen to, and looks back and forth from angel to devil. This is my life, when I am in the darkness. It is a constant, daily struggle to decipher the angel's voice from the devil's. Thoughts about worthlessness, being ugly, fat, stupid, and lazy are always there. Even though I know that they're not true, or at least I hope they aren't, it is a battle to keep those thoughts away. If you hear something often enough, it must be true, right? Well, I have the negative thoughts almost every waking moment. Can you imagine? And people wonder why sometimes a person with bipolar/depression/anxiety can't get out of bed.
I have (in another blog) mentioned how I have struggled with depression, suicidal ideation, and low self-esteem since early childhood. I can remember in preschool, when I would sit in the gutter and play with the dirt because I felt I didn't deserve better. I imagined all across the world, children were taught to love everyone as Jesus did, except for me. I once had someone tell me that it was very selfish, to think that people across the globe knew me, even if they were taught to hate me..... I used to think that every time there was a prayer said, I was the only person actually closing my eyes and everyone else was staring at me in disgust. I drove my mom crazy with the constant fear of speaking to others. I whispered everything to her, and her alone. Throughout my life, when a teacher or peer would talk about how they loved "everyone" in a group, I just knew that meant everyone besides me.
At one point, I was probably about 9, my mom told me that I had a persecution complex. I had no idea what that meant, and she said that I thought everyone was out to get me. I thought to myself "I don't think that, I know that." and I wondered why my mom didn't know that.
In the summer of 1997, I started counseling and was placed on anti-depressants. I almost forgot about the constant, nagging thoughts of worthlessness. I found a new sense of self. I felt like I was worthwhile, and I could be happy.
Twice since then, the darkness has come back in full force, and both times the persecution complex was there. I didn't even recognize that until a few days ago. Few knew the depth of my depression because I was still functioning. I showered, got dressed, went to work/church, and did my best to keep up with the house and kids. Like my friend said; if only people knew how hard I was trying, maybe the comments on my failures would have been less frequent. Judgements about my parenting, comments about laziness at home or work, and my failures as a wife. Perhaps the people that turned their backs on me would have realized how harsh they were. I would say they damaged me, or hurt me, but I found strength and I moved past that. I did learn some valuable lessons about the power of words. I learned that you can not assume anything about a person, just because they seem to have everything together.
No amount of words seem to counteract the negativity. Logically, I know that I am not as bad as the obsessive thoughts lead me to believe. Spiritually, I know that God loves me and I am worthwhile. But I still have to fight that devil on my shoulder, and that is harder than most people could ever understand.
Wednesday, May 10, 2017
Still a Stigma
I guess I assumed that because I have blogged about it, shared articles, done presentations, and openly talked about my struggles, everyone around me, everyone close to me, had a basic understanding of depression. I was so wrong. It's still everywhere. My heart is so heavy right now. I have spent the better part of the last 4 days crying whenever I am alone (or alone with TJ). I don't know where to begin. I don't know the middle or the end, either. I just know I have to blog. It will be nonsense, I'm sure.....
I have been struggling with depression again since before TJ was born. That's about a year. Those around me had no idea. In fact, when I finally got a new doctor, changed my dosage and began to feel better, those closest to me were surprised to hear that I had been depressed. I guess I'm better at hiding it than I thought!
Then, I watched the STUPID show on Netflix called "13 Reasons Why" and I relived my high school days. I didn't have the same struggles as Hannah Baker (fictional main character). But I was suicidal. I thought about dying and fantasized about being hospitalized or taken away in an ambulance. But the stupid show never addresses mental illness. It blames other people, and situations like bullying or sexual abuse. Which is rarely the reason people complete suicide. (I say complete instead of "commit" because "commit" makes it sound like a crime. and it is not a crime to be mentally ill!!.)
Yesterday at work, a coworker started talking about a story in the news. About a young girl that hung herself, and how one of her friends video taped the whole thing. As he talked, he expressed harsh feelings for the girl and the devastation she caused to her family and friends. The focus was on her act, nothing of the things that led up to it.
I don't tell many people about my "attempts" at suicide. I have too often been ridiculed and told "you didn't really want to kill yourself" or "it wasn't a REAL attempt" and, my favorite line "you just wanted attention"..... This is a BIG pet peeve. Of COURSE it's seeking attention. It's a cry for help. It doesn't matter if the person REALLY wanted to die. It doesn't matter if they were serious about the suicide. IT IS A CRY FOR HELP. Why is that so hard for people to understand? It doesn't matter the level of sincerity or the seriousness of the mental illness. It doesn't change the fact that whomever is thinking about death/suicide is seeking help. In whatever way they can think of.
When I struggled with anorexia/bulimia tendencies, the few people I opened up to doubted that I was really struggling. It wasn't "that serious" to skip a few meals, and I was accused of just seeking attention when I started purging. YES! I WAS seeking attention. Why is that so bad? I was going through some serious hell at the time, and that is how I coped. Is that healthy? NO. Is it dangerous? YES. Did I get ignored? Absolutely!
I know of at least 3 people that have been admitted into a psychiatric care facility. It angers me that there has to be shame about it. If I broke a bone, or had a heart attack, or found out I had diabetes, nobody would bat an eye if it was posted on social media. People would reach out to me, offer to bring meals, or other offers for help with whatever I might need. But a suicide attempt? Serious depression? OH! THE SHAME!. Why is there still shame in someone needing help with a mental breakdown? Why do we judge that so harshly? Or, like I mentioned before, why do people question whether or not it was "sincere" or "necessary"? The real question should be "why did that person fear asking for help for so long?"
We have come so far, but we still have so far to go.While I am not currently struggling with 'suicidal ideation', I am struggling with self worth. I am fighting the constant battle against negative thoughts. I am trying to convince myself that I deserve food, or sleep, or any form of happiness and comfort. I don't know how to ask for help. Even after 30 years of this battle, I still don't know how to reach out. I've been disregarded too many times. That is the saddest part of all.
I have been struggling with depression again since before TJ was born. That's about a year. Those around me had no idea. In fact, when I finally got a new doctor, changed my dosage and began to feel better, those closest to me were surprised to hear that I had been depressed. I guess I'm better at hiding it than I thought!
Then, I watched the STUPID show on Netflix called "13 Reasons Why" and I relived my high school days. I didn't have the same struggles as Hannah Baker (fictional main character). But I was suicidal. I thought about dying and fantasized about being hospitalized or taken away in an ambulance. But the stupid show never addresses mental illness. It blames other people, and situations like bullying or sexual abuse. Which is rarely the reason people complete suicide. (I say complete instead of "commit" because "commit" makes it sound like a crime. and it is not a crime to be mentally ill!!.)
Yesterday at work, a coworker started talking about a story in the news. About a young girl that hung herself, and how one of her friends video taped the whole thing. As he talked, he expressed harsh feelings for the girl and the devastation she caused to her family and friends. The focus was on her act, nothing of the things that led up to it.
I don't tell many people about my "attempts" at suicide. I have too often been ridiculed and told "you didn't really want to kill yourself" or "it wasn't a REAL attempt" and, my favorite line "you just wanted attention"..... This is a BIG pet peeve. Of COURSE it's seeking attention. It's a cry for help. It doesn't matter if the person REALLY wanted to die. It doesn't matter if they were serious about the suicide. IT IS A CRY FOR HELP. Why is that so hard for people to understand? It doesn't matter the level of sincerity or the seriousness of the mental illness. It doesn't change the fact that whomever is thinking about death/suicide is seeking help. In whatever way they can think of.
When I struggled with anorexia/bulimia tendencies, the few people I opened up to doubted that I was really struggling. It wasn't "that serious" to skip a few meals, and I was accused of just seeking attention when I started purging. YES! I WAS seeking attention. Why is that so bad? I was going through some serious hell at the time, and that is how I coped. Is that healthy? NO. Is it dangerous? YES. Did I get ignored? Absolutely!
I know of at least 3 people that have been admitted into a psychiatric care facility. It angers me that there has to be shame about it. If I broke a bone, or had a heart attack, or found out I had diabetes, nobody would bat an eye if it was posted on social media. People would reach out to me, offer to bring meals, or other offers for help with whatever I might need. But a suicide attempt? Serious depression? OH! THE SHAME!. Why is there still shame in someone needing help with a mental breakdown? Why do we judge that so harshly? Or, like I mentioned before, why do people question whether or not it was "sincere" or "necessary"? The real question should be "why did that person fear asking for help for so long?"
We have come so far, but we still have so far to go.While I am not currently struggling with 'suicidal ideation', I am struggling with self worth. I am fighting the constant battle against negative thoughts. I am trying to convince myself that I deserve food, or sleep, or any form of happiness and comfort. I don't know how to ask for help. Even after 30 years of this battle, I still don't know how to reach out. I've been disregarded too many times. That is the saddest part of all.
Tuesday, February 21, 2017
Cheesy Love Post
This has been on my mind for a while. So I had to blog it to help me process it. And to help me always remember.
As I tried to choose a song, I read through all our text messages, listened to the radio, browsed sheet music, and prayed. There were a lot I thought were fitting. Some I couldn’t hit the notes on, some I didn’t like the entire song so I couldn’t use them. I sat down at my parents’ piano, put some music in front of me, and started to play. As I played, I glanced at their digital picture frame, and just as our engagement picture flashed, I was singing “All along, I believed I would find you” and suddenly I knew I had found the song I should sing to my love. Christina Perri’s “A Thousand Years”: (lyrics are bold/italicized. My thoughts are regular font)
Beauty in all she is
I will be brave (although I don’t feel brave, I can be brave with him)
I will not let anything, take away
What's standing in front of me (and Satan has certainly tried to break us)
Every breath, every hour has come to this (all of our experiences are what brought us together. Without the hurt, we couldn’t appreciate the joy)
One step closer
I have died every day, waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more
And all along I believed, I would find you (after a priesthood blessing I was given, I knew that I would one day find a man that would “leave [me] in awe of the way [I] can be treated”.)
Time has brought your heart to me, (TIME. Timing made a big difference. If we hadn’t met at the time we did, things never would have worked out. The more I think about this, the more I realize the truth in that)
I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more
One step closer
One step closer
I have died every day, waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years (despite his efforts to hide it, Jason fights fears, too. Divorce hurts, no matter the circumstances. Sometimes I forget that, but I try to be strong for him, as he is for me.)
I'll love you for a thousand more
And all along I believed, I would find you (all along… even when I cried myself to sleep. Even when I questioned why Heavenly Father would not stop the hurt. I knew, deep down, that one day I would find the right man for me.)
Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more (and more than that)……….
It's been really hard at times. Blending a family is not for the weak, and I know the worst isn't over yet. But at least we love each other, so we will figure it out with the help of a loving Heavenly Father, who brought us together.
When we started
dating, I struggled to let myself fall in love with Jason. Even when I admitted
I was in love, often doubts would rush over me, and I found myself drowning in
fear. When we would go to the temple, I always knew he was “the one” for me. But we were moving so fast, and I had
been hurt so much by the divorce, and then the guy I dated for ten months. I
had envisioned myself marrying him, and he broke my heart. There were no “fireworks”
or “weak-in-the-knees” moments for us. It just…. was… it just fit.
Even now, after
two years of marriage, I find myself fighting to keep old wounds closed. My
heart is still hurt. Jason is helping me, but years of hurt will take time to
get past. I know we were brought together by a loving Heavenly Father, and
because of Jesus Christ we can be together forever.
When we became
engaged, exactly 2 months after we met, I still faced many fears. I knew that I
wanted to sing a song to Jason at the reception. I had always been afraid to
sing in front of people, but somehow I found myself longing to sing to him.
Those who’ve known me the longest were shocked when I mentioned wanting to sing
in public for him. They teased “he must
be good for you if you’re going to sing!”
As I tried to choose a song, I read through all our text messages, listened to the radio, browsed sheet music, and prayed. There were a lot I thought were fitting. Some I couldn’t hit the notes on, some I didn’t like the entire song so I couldn’t use them. I sat down at my parents’ piano, put some music in front of me, and started to play. As I played, I glanced at their digital picture frame, and just as our engagement picture flashed, I was singing “All along, I believed I would find you” and suddenly I knew I had found the song I should sing to my love. Christina Perri’s “A Thousand Years”: (lyrics are bold/italicized. My thoughts are regular font)
Heart beats fast
Colors and promises
How to be brave (the last word I’d use to describe myself was “brave”, so how could I be?)
How can I love when I'm afraid to fall (so afraid that if my heart broke again I’d never recover)
But watching you stand alone (I will never forget the first time I saw Jason, standing alone in the IHOP entrance, waiting for me to show. There was some confusion about our first date, so we almost didn’t meet. But when he said “I’ll just get a table for one” I turned my car around. I couldn’t bear the thought of him sitting alone. Later, he laughed about that because he wouldn’t have minded eating alone.)
All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow (when I look in his eyes, I find peace. I’ve said this from day one.)
One step closerColors and promises
How to be brave (the last word I’d use to describe myself was “brave”, so how could I be?)
How can I love when I'm afraid to fall (so afraid that if my heart broke again I’d never recover)
But watching you stand alone (I will never forget the first time I saw Jason, standing alone in the IHOP entrance, waiting for me to show. There was some confusion about our first date, so we almost didn’t meet. But when he said “I’ll just get a table for one” I turned my car around. I couldn’t bear the thought of him sitting alone. Later, he laughed about that because he wouldn’t have minded eating alone.)
All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow (when I look in his eyes, I find peace. I’ve said this from day one.)
I have died every
day, waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more
Time stands still
(When Jason proposed, it was like the world stopped for a
few minutes as we considered eternity together)Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more
Beauty in all she is
I will be brave (although I don’t feel brave, I can be brave with him)
I will not let anything, take away
What's standing in front of me (and Satan has certainly tried to break us)
Every breath, every hour has come to this (all of our experiences are what brought us together. Without the hurt, we couldn’t appreciate the joy)
One step closer
I have died every day, waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more
And all along I believed, I would find you (after a priesthood blessing I was given, I knew that I would one day find a man that would “leave [me] in awe of the way [I] can be treated”.)
Time has brought your heart to me, (TIME. Timing made a big difference. If we hadn’t met at the time we did, things never would have worked out. The more I think about this, the more I realize the truth in that)
I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more
One step closer
One step closer
I have died every day, waiting for you
Darling, don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years (despite his efforts to hide it, Jason fights fears, too. Divorce hurts, no matter the circumstances. Sometimes I forget that, but I try to be strong for him, as he is for me.)
I'll love you for a thousand more
And all along I believed, I would find you (all along… even when I cried myself to sleep. Even when I questioned why Heavenly Father would not stop the hurt. I knew, deep down, that one day I would find the right man for me.)
Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years
I'll love you for a thousand more (and more than that)……….
It's been really hard at times. Blending a family is not for the weak, and I know the worst isn't over yet. But at least we love each other, so we will figure it out with the help of a loving Heavenly Father, who brought us together.
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