Off the Pills, On the Pills

September Writing Challenge - Prompt #24: 

Depression

I recently weaned off antidepressants. I've taken them consistently for about three years (and in other increments previously), and I felt good about doing a test run without them just to see where I am currently. The results are yet to be determined as I need to be off them long enough for any discontinuation symptoms to smooth over. I am keeping a mood log, and I figure by the end of the month, I can have a more accurate idea of how I'm doing. 

In going off my meds, I'm trying to be mindful and implement lifestyle choices that help me steer clear of depression (key word: trying). Over the past few years, I've kept a list on my phone of things that help me with depression. In posting this, I have no intention of telling anyone else how to manage depression. I also have no judgement toward anyone on medication. If I still need them, I have no qualms over going back on my pills, but if I don't need them, I'd love to have the break from the side effects I experience on them. So this is in no way a “how to” or a commentary on how any other person should deal with depression. It’s simply my story and my experience and my advice to myself for things I might want to remember over time. 

Anyway, these are some of the helpful actions that I'm keeping in mind as I move forward without meds:

1. Avoiding social media

I don't think I need to explain this at all. I'd like to think I'm immune from all negative effects of social media, but I'm not. When I stay away from social media for long chunks of time, my mental health improves significantly. 

2. Starting and completing a task 

Even if it's something as small as wiping off the kitchen table or making my bed, if I can start and finish something, it gives me a boost. Sometimes when I'm struggling, I intentionally find something I can do that matches my energy level. If that means I change a toilet paper roll, so be it. If I get a clean and organized closet out of it, even better!

3. Eating well

The better I eat, the better I feel. I also enjoy my meals more when I eat mindfully. I hate that this is true.

4. Avoiding binge-watching

I've noticed I experience more depressive symptoms when I am binge-watching long series. I'm not sure if I'm binge-watching because I'm depressed or if I am depressed because I'm binge-watching. Either way, I see a connection. 

5. Listening to music

The right music lifts my mood and can even get me dancing and moving around the house. 

6. Doing something for someone else

Setting myself aside for a minute and serving someone else makes me feel good. The thing is… it’s best when it's on my terms. So it may seem like there’s  an element of selfishness there, but it’s more that I need to remove myself from any form of “people pleasing.” 

7. Going outside

This is something that I have a really hard time doing if I feel depressed, but if I go outside - even if it's just to sit on a chair - it sometimes helps. 

8. Doing something creative 

This is something my grandma brought to my attention shortly before she died. She told me that being creative would often help her with depression, and after she told me that, I realized that it worked for me too. 

As I've progressed in life, I've found new and interesting ways to be creative - it's not about crafts! It's about using my mind - brainstorming, coming up with ideas, and seeing them through. 

Here's a nice place for me to throw down one of my favorite quotes from Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf:

The desire to create is one of the deepest yearnings of the human soul... Creation brings deep satisfaction and fulfillment. We develop ourselves and others when we take unorganized matted into our hands and mold it into something of beauty... 

The bounds of creativity extend far beyond the limits of a canvas or a sheet or paper and do not require a brush, a pen, or the keys of a piano. Creation means bringing into existence something that did not exist before - colorful gardens, harmonious homes, family memories, flowing laughter... 

The more you trust and rely upon the Spirit, the greater your capacity to create. That is your opportunity in this life and your destiny in the life to come. 

9.  Connecting with other people

I was going to say "socializing," but then I realized that wasn't quite the right wording. Connecting. That's it! Meaningful conversation and interaction is so healing for me. A family party can be pure torture when I’m depressed, but connecting with one person at that party can make all the difference. 

10. Exercising early in the day

I have to get it over with. I really, truly hate exercising. I would rather do a thousand loads of high school football players' laundry. But I know that when I do some form of exercise early in the day, it really does help my mood. Being active is very important - despite how much I hate it. So my morning walks at 5:45 are pretty imperative. 

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Of course, this list is not exhaustive, and most of these actions require energy and a certain degree of "wanting to," and that's the crappiest part of depression. You have to feel well to do well and you have to do well to feel well, and that's a very inconvenient cycle. But I'm going to try my best to practice the above actions to see if I’m in a place where I can go without medication for a while. 

 

Let's Talk About Depression While I'm Not Feeling Depressed

Hi, my name is Brittany, and I have depression.

(I didn't really want to start this post with that line, but I couldn't think of anything better).

I've mentioned depression here on my blog, but I've never written a detailed post about my experiences with depression. There's no reason to think my story is special, but I'm going to write it anyway. I know I’m in good company.

Right now, I'm feeling really good. I feel like myself. That could change tomorrow. But I am currently taking anti-depressants, and for the most part, my depression is well-controlled with a down day every now and then.

I recently had a change of mindset regarding anti-depressants. I understand the rhetoric of depression being an illness and therefore, needing treatment ("You wouldn't let diabetes go untreated" and that whole bit), but one thing I've always expected is that I'll eventually be free from needing treatment. I've always looked at treatment as a temporary necessity. I've been trying to get away from it because deep down, I still have that subconscious belief that there is shame in having depression - that it's my fault, and that if I have symptoms, there is clearly something I'm doing wrong. I know that's not true, but it's still in the back recesses of my mind somewhere. I've only recently acknowledged that maybe, as with diabetes, I will need treatment for the rest of my life, and that might be okay. 

Me coming to terms with the truth

My first brush with depression was after Nicky was born. And I mean immediately after. Holding my baby in the hospital, something felt off. Until now, I have only confided this in close friends, so here I am writing it for the first time: I wanted to get rid of my baby.

A few days after Nicky was born, a mother in our area took a newborn baby to a church and left him there. This brought up a lot of discussion in the media about the Safe Haven law. It was all over the news for days as I tried to keep myself together. I was jealous of that mother. The one who could leave her baby and walk away. I knew I couldn't do the same because my family would hate me. But that's what I wanted to do.  

I knew a little about post-partum depression, but I had a hard time accepting that that was what was I was experiencing. It wasn't talked about as openly as it is now. My thoughts were so dark and wrong, and I fully attributed them to myself. It was my fault. Two weeks post-partum, I confided in my doctor. I didn't tell him the specifics of what I felt. I only told him I didn't feel "right." He prescribed anti-depressants for six months. They seemed to do their job, so I didn't go back in to renew my prescription.

I was so ashamed and embarrassed about having PPD. I didn't want to seem weak or broken, and above all that, we'd had a few years of infertility (including tests and treatments), so it felt so wrong to be depressed after we finally got our baby. 

Fortunately, I didn't have PPD with any of my other babies. I just had normal baby blues that cleared up in timely manner. I was always paranoid with every birth, though, and I was always ready to call my doctor after the two week mark if I didn't feel immensely better. 

After my initial experience with PPD, I found myself needing anti-depressants occasionally in the summer and whenever I had a three-year-old. Essentially, I've been in a pattern of going off and on medication for thirteen years. I never took medication during my pregnancies, but I can't say with full confidence that I didn't need it. 

So let me continue this tale from where I am now - at age 36 as a stay-at-home mother of four whose depression is controlled with a daily pill.

Last August I weaned off my anti-depressants again. Like I said, I've always worked under the assumption that I need to figure out how to free myself from medication, so this was yet another test to see how I would do without it. For the first several weeks, I was alright. I thought I'd really arrived. But then the symptoms started creeping in. 

When depression sees me thriving

For me, depression usually manifests itself in the form of:

• Feeling angry and irritated
• Feeling incapable and overwhelmed
• Simple tasks like having to buy a gallon of milk feel impossible
• Fatigue
• Not wanting to be around anyone
• Not being able to feel the Spirit
• Not being able to pray
• Different than choosing not to pray. I cannot pray.
• Feeling worthless
• Not being able to see anything good in myself
• Feelings of doom, hopelessness, or fear

I've been very fortunate to not have suicidal thoughts during any of my bouts of depression, but this time, I was walking very near the edge. I was having some of the strongest feelings of worthlessness I had ever experienced, and I felt like they were gateway feelings to suicidal ideation. If they'd been allowed to continue, I may have ended up in a darker place than I've ever been. 

In hindsight, it's very clear that I was having depressive symptoms, and that I needed to get help,* but while I was in the thick of it, it was hard to see. It's always that way for me, and I think it goes back to the belief that I am supposed to free myself from treatment.

I so wanted to be medication-free. I tried to pray about what to do, but it was more like thinking about praying about what to do because, as you can see from the list above, prayer doesn't go well when I'm depressed. I was shocked when I received an unexpected, very clear and specific answer to go back on my anti-depressants! With that answer also came the additional guidance to stay on my medication. This answer came while listening to a talk about the Book of Mormon, of all things. 

Portrayal of my shock

That was right before Thanksgiving, and that brings me to where I am now, and my new mindset of "staying" on medication rather than always trying to free myself from it. 

Now before this starts to sound like I live a life of sadness and gloom (too late, maybe?) I have to say that, although I've had issues with depression, I still have a great life, and I'd like to think I'm actually a very happy person. 

You may recall that when I was finishing my degree a few years ago, I had to do a practicum where I wrote and taught a workshop on happiness. One of my best take-aways from my studies was the definition that I now use for happiness. This comes from a Dutch sociologist named Ruut Veenhoven (1984):

Happiness is "the overall appreciation for life as a whole." 

Veenhoven additionally defined happiness as, "the degree to which an individual judges the overall quality of his or her life as a whole favorably" (as cited by Bekhet and Zauszniewski, 2008). 

Stanley approves this message

Because these definitions of happiness are now ingrained in me, I think and speak about happiness a little differently than most people. I hear people debate whether "happiness" and "joy" are the same thing, and really, it just depends on your definition of the words. I use them interchangeably. 

When I read the scripture in the Book of Mormon that says, "Adam fall that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy," (2 Nephi 2:25) I think of it as saying "men are, that they might have an overall appreciation for life as a whole." In other words, one of the very purposes of our existence is to appreciate what we endure and what we learn in mortality. Likewise, when Nephi says "we lived after the manner of happiness" (2 Nephi 5:27). I believe Nephi was judging the overall quality of his life as favorable. 

Ultimately, by these definitions, happiness is a form of gratitude, and gratitude is medicine!

Elder Robert Hales said, "In some quiet way, the expression and feelings of gratitude have a wonderful cleansing or healing nature... Gratitude brings a peace that helps us overcome the pain of adversity and failure" (1992). 

Medicine! But not to take the place of literal medicine. Just to help it in its effectiveness. So I take my medicine, and I take my "medicine," and now that my depression is once again managed, I'm going to keep moving forward and LEAVE IT ALONE unless something changes, and I need to revisit my method of treatment. I'm not going to try and sneak away from anti-depressants anymore. 

Actual footage of me trying to hide from

anti-depressants in the past

*I remember listening to a podcast a few years ago with a therapist who said something like, "Some of my depressed patients are the most mentally healthy people I know." He was referring to their ability to recognize when they need help, which is a very healthy skill. 

The Good Day

Yesterday was a big day for me. It was the first day in a long time that I haven't felt sluggish and "down." I had one day last week where I didn't feel "down," but I still felt sluggish. Yesterday I hit the jackpot because I felt neither. I slept decent the night before (I've had a hard time sleeping lately), and I woke up early and went for a walk. I came home, and I didn't crawl back in bed. I ran some errands and took my kids to piano. We went to lunch and gott stuck in a bizarre hailstorm that I was pretty sure signaled the end of the world (if it happens this week, you can be all, "Whoa! Britt wasn't kidding!") Then we went to a paint store.

Scotty and I were given an old, sturdy kitchen table a while ago. I hoped to paint it, but the task felt impossible. Yesterday I finally had the energy and motivation to do it. I camped out in my backyard and did two coats of paint, a coat of glaze, and four layers of top coat. Then I painted my front door with a sample of paint that I found on the markdown rack at Lowe's. My front door has been black for about 10 years, and it was due for a new coat of paint. In all honesty, I think black is probably the most "flattering" color for my house, but for less than two bucks, it was worth trying something fresh and new. It's now a light blue-ish gray. I'm still trying to decide if it "works." It's a quick fix if I decide I don't like it - that is, if I have the energy to paint it again.

All of the painting got done after I spent two hours with my kids at Scheel's. We stopped by for ice cream (if you are ever driving that stretch of I-15 and need a treat, soft serve ice cream at Scheel's is priced just right. You can get a "kid cone" that is bigger than a normal sized cone at most fast food places for only $.79. And they have all those icky syrupy flavors to choose from, or they have traditional vanilla, chocolate, and twist. You might also want to try the scotcheroo cookie if you are a peanut butter and chocolate fan) (they were out of scotcheroo cookies yesterday, which I'm pretty sure is just one more piece of evidence supporting my theory that the world is ending). We ate our ice cream, played on the putting green, looked at the fish, made a few trips to the bathroom, and rode the Ferris Wheel of Death (I spend the whole time imaging myself dying on the ride, but it's not as bad as the Sky Ride of Death or the Wild Mouse of Death at Lagoon).

It's been a long time since I've been able to do that much in a day. I hope this means my anti-depressants are starting to kick in. I still have an underlying fear that they aren't going to help, but it will be so nice if they do!

So far today I don’t feel “down,” but I am really tired. It’s probably because I stayed up really late doing important things like distressing my front door, eating chees and crackers, and watching Gilmore Girls. Then I got up at 6:00 and went to Walmart to buy important things like milk, spray paint, and bendy straws. I’m okay with being tired if it’s the result of those things. It’s much better than being tired without explanation, like I have been for the past couple of months.

Depression, Denial, & a Doctor

About a year and a half ago, I wrote this post about some of my experiences with depression. I've struggled with depression off and on for most of my adult life. I have a hard time calling it what it is, though. Even though I've come in and out of it, it's still onerous for me to think it's depression. It feels so deeply like a spiritual problem, and I have the tendency to place the blame on myself.

My "depression" (even now, I'm finding it difficult to name it) manifests itself in the form of anger & irritation, a low sense of self-worth, fatigue & low motivation, and spiritual aversion. Only when I'm on the other side am I able to see it for what it really is. I'm currently experiencing all of these things, and I'm half objective about it and half in complete denial. The only reason I'm half-way able to admit it's depression is that yesterday, a thought came into my mind, "You know what this is - you've experienced this before. Call your doctor."

The funny thing is that I just filled out a depression survey at my new doctor last Tuesday, and I "decided" before I filled it out that I don't have depression, so I filled it out as if I don't have depression. Then in the comments section I wrote, "I've been treated for depression and anxiety in the past, but I don't currently need treatment."

Denial.

I don't want to do it. I don't want to be a person with depression.

{I'm not too depressed to enjoy a good giph}

I don't know if it will do me any good (in fact, I am in a mind space where I truly don't believe it will help - I remember feeling this in times past) but I'm going to the doctor in the morning. I'll start medication... again... and despite my lack of faith in it, maybe it will help me get to a place where I can help myself (non-medicinal routes aren't realistic right now because I have no motivation to work toward healing).

I'm not sure why I'm blogging about it. Somehow it makes me accountable, I guess. And it gives me something to look back on later to see if I'm improving. If I read this in six weeks, and I don't feel better, then I know I need to explore other solutions.

The Last 17 Days

I haven't posted for 17 days. Last time I blogged it was almost spring break, and I was worried about how to entertain my kids for the week. Spring break came and went, and I missed most of it. I was wiped out with a really bad case of strep. Luckily the symptoms hit on Friday, so the worst of it occurred over the weekend while Scotty was home. I was in bed most of Friday evening, all day Saturday and Sunday, and most of Monday. I didn't eat or speak for three days. I had an antibiotic shot on Saturday, and on Tuesday I hadn't improved much so I went back to the doctor and and was given a stronger antibiotic.

Scotty handled all of the Easter events without me. Bless his heart. I decided to not feel guilty about it because I've handled hundreds of holidays, birthdays, and other events without him. His new job has sick pay (a first for us - and we are so grateful), so he was able to take Monday off to take care of the kids while I slept.

It was nice to not have to keep my kids busy over spring break, but it was kind of sad to have to miss the whole thing. I had one day with them before I got sick. We had a pizza party with friends. Then the next day I took them to lunch at Scotty's work, and that's when I was starting to feel achy and really tired. I also couldn't get warm. After about twelve hours, I finally thought, "Wait! Am I sick?" (It hadn't even crossed my mind that I might be sick).

I'm better now, for the most part, but I feel like I'm trying to crawl out of a pit. I can't get back to my routine, I'm still really tired all the time, and to be honest, I'm a little depressed and my anxiety has flared up. I don't know if it's from being sick or if it was already starting before I got sick. The anxiety definitely was there before I got sick - in the past few months I've been really worried about things I have no control over, but I didn't feel depressed. Now I don't want to get out of bed - ever. I'm really tired. I don't want to do anything, and I feel like I'm dragging. I hope it's just because my body is still recovering from being sick.

In the meantime, my strategies are to avoid social media and clean up my eating. I used to deny that social media had anything to do with my depression or anxiety because, after all, I "know better" than to let it affect me like that (I had to write several papers on the topic for school, and even though I was repeatedly face to face with the research, I still never believed it was me). But last November I went the whole month with no social media, and it made a very noticeable difference in my anxiety and depression. So crap. It is me.

And as for eating, I was doing really well before I got sick, and then I went on a steady diet of popsicles and Dr. Pepper (DP was the only thing I could drink that didn't hurt to swallow. Water hurt, DP didn't. So I lived off DP). It's so hard to reset after a drastic change in eating habits.

For now, I just want to sit. I don't want to move or exert energy in any way. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my living room sitting in the old, ugly recliner with my feet up and a rambunctious nearly three-year-old camping out in my lap (Eva turns three on Sunday. Can you believe it?)

Draft Week: Doggy Paddling

My draft folder is now down to 111 (From 165). As I've combed through my unpublished posts, I'm amazed at how many posts I've abandoned for reason #2: I realize that I'm whining or complaining. Don't get me wrong, plenty of whiney posts see the light of day around here (one of my most frequently used labels is "wo is me"), but there are masses of posts I've never published because I know I sound like an ungrateful sack of potatoes.

(Are sacks of potatoes ungrateful? I just made that up).

I decided to post this one from January 2016 because I wrote about an event that had a big impact on me. I now refer to this event as "The Day the Sunday School Boys Made Me Cry." It may seem like a small event, but it was a kind of turning point. One of my boys didn't come to church for over a year after this happened, so it has always been bookmarked in my mind as the last time he came to church (he bravely returned last year and was in my class again).

I just taught the same lesson to my new Sunday school class a few weeks ago, and it will always be remembered as "that lesson," though this time around it went very well, and no one made me cry. I'm glad I had the chance to see the lesson unfold the way I envisioned it.

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Last week* I wrote about how I feel like I'm drowning. I can't explain why, but things have just been really rough for me emotionally lately. I don't usually get the January blues, but maybe that's what this is. I dunno. I've been doing the, "Do I have depression?" debate for a while, but it doesn't quite fit the bill.

Anyway, I'm a firm believer that whining to the point of embarrassment really helps turn things around. Don't take that out of context. What I mean is that writing a blog post or talking to a friend and just taking a minute to vent is really helpful, but then you need to wipe yourself up off the floor and try to improve things. In other words, you can whine for a minute, but then you need to suck it up and take action. 

Last week I had some chances to vent. It started on Sunday when everything caught up to me in the middle of Sunday school (I was teaching), and I completely lost it in the middle of my lesson in front of a bunch of a 15 year old boys (they weren't exactly being kind that day). I started sobbing. Not just crying, but sobbing. I was sniffling and doing those quick inhales that make you unable to talk. My face was red and puffy. I just exploded. Then I got control of myself and dismissed the class. I had a quick chat with my team teacher, and then I went to the bathroom to do damage control.

When I walked in, one of my good friends (and mothers of one of the boys I'd just cried in front of) was standing right inside the door. I took one look at her and just started sobbing all over again. I explained myself in between sniffles. Then she left, and I looked in the mirror and started sobbing again just because I looked so ridiculous. I hid in the bathroom stall for a while hoping that I'd stop crying and get my act together so I could go to my next class. The restroom traffic was so heavy every time someone came in, I'd say, "Hey ________. I'm in here crying. Do you need a stall right away?" Luckily they let me stay.

I texted Scotty from the bathroom and told him what was going on, and he texted me back that he was outside waiting for me, so eventually I had to come out of the stall. Since the bathroom never emptied, I made my escape while a friend was changing her son's diaper. I walked out like, "Hey, don't mind me. Just a little emotional breakdown. No big deal. Oh my heck! Look at my FACE!!! What is wrong with my face? Okay then, good day."

A few days later, one of my friends texted me and said, "I've been thinking about you, and I've been meaning to ask you if you're doing alright." I responded, "Haha! I'm a mess, but you know how it goes..." Then she called me and let me have a big, old whine fest with her.

She didn't give me advice. She didn't tell me to cherish every moment or say, "If you think it's hard now, wait until you have teenagers!"

In terms of being a good listener and helping me feel better, my friend nailed it.

When I got off the phone, I realized I'd just vented to a friend whose husband spent the last year battling cancer. See what I mean about whining to the point of embarrassment?

Now that I've had the chance to let some of my emotions out, I feel like I might be able to start doggy paddling.

*"Two years ago" would be more accurate now

Eva's World

Meet Eva.

Age 2.8.

Toe-headed, sippy cup obsessed, highly opinionated, lovely, stubborn Eva.

Whether you argue for age two or age three, she is definitely in the thick of the Terribles. 

(For the genetic cocktails Scotty and I have created, it seems to be worse for age three, so I keep reminding myself that what I'm going through now is nothing compared to what's coming over the next year).

(Also, when my kids are out of this phase, and go I back and read my blog posts where I boob about how hard it is, I always think, "It couldn't have been that bad. Why was I such a whiner?" but then when I'm living it again, I realize... it really is that bad. So this is a note to my future self: age two and three are really, really hard. You're not just being a baby! You've been through it four times now. The pain is real). 

(AND... I know that there is someone out there who has teenagers who is thinking I'm an idiot).

The good thing about the Terribles is that they are also incredibly cute at this age. One minute they are literally clawing the skin off your face and screaming in your ear (in public, no less - I just love when we're in Costco, and my child's scream is so high-pitched that the people around us flinch and cover their ears), and the next minute they are giving you eskimo kisses.

What is with these tiny people?

(As I'm writing this, it's 6:30 a.m. and Eva is right up in my grill whispering "milk" in her serial killer voice).

The other day I took my first steps toward returning to my former routine of getting up at 5:00 in the morning. I'm out of practice so I was exhausted by mid-morning. I got Eva some milk (to prevent the whispering) and turned on Daniel Tiger and took a quick nap on the couch. I think I was woken up by Eva about every three minutes for the 18 minutes I attempted to sleep. At one point, she was climbing all over me, and when I got up, I was soaking wet, and so was she. I'm pretty sure she peed on me. She also managed to unlock my phone and take about 200 pictures. Most of them were of her own finger, but she also took these little gems:

About 1/4 of the photos featured her feet:

At some point, she must've accidentally gotten into the filters.

And apparently I was the subject for a time.

I've never really seen what I look like when I sleep. I'm a little creeped out by my eyes. I appear to be peeking. No wonder no one respects my sleep. I don't look believable!

(Not that my kids care one bit whether I'm really asleep or not).

This age is beautiful and hard. This is the phase where, with each of my children, I have ended up on anti-depressants. My coping skills with a three-year-old are very lacking, and this phase fatigues me (physically and mentally). It's really easy for me to slip into a pit of overwhelm. I'm not quite to that point, but I feel myself heading there.

C'mon Eva. Let's get through this.

(And while we're talking about it, please, pretty please, don't touch the 700 piece puzzle that I left sitting on the kitchen table last night because I falsely believed that I could finish it before you woke up this morning, but here it is... 6:45, and you are jumping on the couch - the couch that you have managed to dislodge most of the springs from, reiterating that I can never have anything nice).

(Sigh... I already know how this story ends. At least I'll have something to blog about tomorrow).

Discovering and Nurturing the Best Within You

A couple of week's ago, I promised a post about strengths. I wish I could remember everything I hoped to say in that post, but I waited too long. I'm going to try to summon those thoughts as best I can today.

There are a couple of things that made me want to write this post. 

The first was my practicum, which helped me become more familiar with the positive psychology movement. Until recent decades, psychology focused heavily on what was wrong with people. It was about diagnosis and treatment - fixing people, if you will. In recent years, psychology has become more involved in researching human strengths, life satisfaction, and happiness.

While researching my practicum, I came across this concept from Dr. Martin Seligman, one of the prominent researchers in positive psychology, and it has been at the forefront of my thoughts ever since:

(Sorry for the blurry image - I took it from my slideshow presentation)

Let's pretend that you have something weak within you. Maybe there's a bad habit you keep going back to, or maybe you have some mental or emotional struggles. 

It can be very easy to hone in on our weaknesses. There are many reasons for this, but I think a big one is that we feel like we are being humble when we bring attention to our faults, as if announcing them to everyone makes us more noble and modest. 

Another reason I believe we focus on our weaknesses is to protect ourselves from being "caught." If I tell you everything I'm bad at and every area I'm weak in, then I beat you to it! You get to know about my weakness because I pointed it out to you. You don't get the glory of discovering my fault on your own! I am in control.

I could give more reasons, but suffice it to say that, for many of us, it is our nature to focus on our weaknesses when it would do us a great deal of good if we focused on our strengths.

The second thing that got my thoughts flowing on this topic was General Conference, which occurred the first weekend of April. 

Several years ago, I started hearing people say that they struggle with General Conference because they feel like it's a run down of everything they're doing wrong. I'd never experienced such guilt during General Conference, so, while I felt sad for these individuals, I didn't understand why they felt that way. But then, in time, it happened to me. I started feeling like General Conference was a guilt trip. And the social media culture surrounding General Conference added immensely to that feeling.

This was new to me, I'd never felt that way before, and I didn't like it. I decided to actively battle this feeling by applying the same tactic I used a few years ago to tackle mom guilt. Instead of worrying about everything I am doing wrong during General Conference, I now try to focus on things I am doing right. I listen for statements that validate good choices I am already making, and when it comes to progress, I focus on messages that inspire me, and I don't worry about the ones that make me feel guilty. If I feel inspired, I am ready to act. If I feel guilty, I am not in a place to tackle that particular issue.* 

This is something I've been trying to do for the past few years, but it was only this time around that I was aware there was research to back this up. In essence, I had learned a way to nurture what was best within me. 

I'll try to bring this all together now.

Part of overcoming our faults and weaknesses is nurturing our strengths, and to do that, we need to know what they are! 

This is so hard for many people. In my workshop, I had the participants fill out a sheet to help them become familiar with some of the best parts of themselves. Some people handled this well and were pleased to make some new  discoveries about themselves, and others refused to write anything good about themselves. It was difficult for me to witness people I love feel incapable of acknowledging their own strengths. 

But anyway, back to the point - we need to know what some of our strengths are, because no matter what faults we have, there are good things within each of us. 

Just in case you need some help in that area, here are three ways you can discover some of your strengths:

1. Take the VIA Survey of Character Strengths**

You will need to create an account to fill out the questionnaire, but it is free, and once you have an account, you will have access to several other surveys.

This is a great exercise for those who struggle to name their own strengths because the program will do it for you. 

2. Fill out this "My Strengths and Qualities" worksheet

(Just for the record, the worksheet comes from Therapist Aid, not The Rapist Aid).

This one might be harder because you have to name your strengths on your own, but I like this worksheet because it has you go beyond just listing your strengths.

3. Ask someone you love and trust what they think some of your strengths are

Ooooooo! That's a tough one. But it's also a good one, because another person is going to see strengths in you that you might not see in yourself. 

Do it! I dare you!

And as a bonus, if you are a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and have received a patriarchal blessing, I encourage you to look there for strengths.

Once you've identified some of your strengths, it's helpful to make a list of the ways you can use each strength (you may also include ways you have used that strength in the past). 

How can your strength bless your own life as well as the lives of others? How can you further develop that strength? 

As a religious person, I believe the cultivation of our best qualities can be accomplished through prayer. It is one thing to learn of our strengths, but it is another to develop and use them for the best purposes. Acknowledging our strengths may seem to be at odds with the commandment to be humble, but there is room for humility in the best parts of us as we use those strengths for righteous purposes and for serving others. 

Research has shown that doing a kind deed is one of the most effective (if not the most effective) ways to boost happiness, so I encourage you to acknowledge your strengths and use them to help others. In doing so, you will have a greater capacity to overcome your own weaknesses. 

*I would like to add here that I sustain the leaders of the Church, and I do not believe that it is the intent or purpose of general Conference to make us feel guilty. Feeling that way is, perhaps, one of my own weaknesses.

**According to my most recent completion of the survey, my top 5 strengths are spirituality, love of learning, humor and playfulness, creativity, and gratitude. 

I'd Rather be Human

This week was rough. I don't have any real explanation for it, though. I was really tired all week and in a bit of a funk. I was also stressed with school and family responsibilities. There is an upcoming event that is really eating away at me - I won't bore you with the details, but I will say that it's something I wasn't supposed to have to do, but the people who were supposed to save me didn't save me, and now I have to tend to some responsibilities I thought I was going to be freed from.

So with that looming over me on top of my usual stressors, I think it triggered my depression. I haven't felt this bad in a long time.

After a few days of difficulty, I tried to get out in the sun and get some vitamin D in my system. Since it wasn't super cold (high forties) I took Eva and Zoe to the park.

 

 It was really bright that day.

 

They lasted about fifteen minutes before Zoe started whining that she wanted to go home. Zoe doesn't like being away from home, even if it's somewhere fun.  Eva, on the other hand, hates being home. So no matter where I am, I have at least one kid who's unhappy about it.

Later that day, I took Nicky in for his well-child appointment. On the way to the doctor's office, we saw a cloud that reminded us of Peter Pan's pirate ship.



That day was a short day at my kids' school, and then they had no school on Friday. Knowing I wasn't feeling the greatest, I was terrified of Friday (and also Monday... which is still to come). I decided I needed a game plan for handling my kids over the weekend, so I took them to Thanksgiving Point, and we bought a family pass. It was a bit of a splurge, but we had some Christmas money left from our parents and decided that would be a good way to spend it.

The kids and I spent Friday morning at the farm. The kids got unlimited pony rides, which is great except that half my kids, apparently, hate ponies.



Eva had her first pony ride, and I can't say she was thrilled about it, but she did stay on the horse, which is more than I expected from her (I had the lovely opportunity to walk around in circles holding her on the pony).

We stumbled across a very friendly calf who wanted some love. She was trying to snuggle all of us, and then she started nibbling my hair.



Actually, now that I think about it, maybe the calf wasn't looking for love. Maybe it was looking for food. It pretty much licked or chewed on every single one of us.



There was also a mama cow I had to get a picture of because she had a big old string of snot coming out of her nose.



I enjoy animals, but I am also very thankful to not be one. How would it be to be a cow and not be able to enjoy the satisfying feeling of blowing your nose into a tissue from a box you stole from a hotel room?

I'm also glad that I don't have crazy eyes like this goat.



And can you imagine how crappy it would be to be a ram and have big old horns blocking your peripherals and resting against your face?



This is what I'm going to think about from now on when I'm sad or stressed.

At least I'm not a ram!

(Is that even a ram? I don't really know).


I guess when given the choice, I'll be a depressed human rather than a stinky farm animal.

Updates to Previous Posts

I've kept up pretty well with the 31 day writing challenge, and I've gotten pretty pumped up about blogging again. I'm amazed that when I transitioned from the hashtags (which I thought would be just for a post or two) that I ended up continuing to write actual posts. I think part of the reason I've been able to do that is because I'm starting to feel passionate about things again. Hooray!

The month is coming to a close soon, and I probably won't keep writing at this rate, but I might write a little more often than I was prior to this challenge. I feel like I'm getting some of my blogging groove back, and as long as you, dear readers, are content to read my mindless banter, we can continue enjoying this journey.

For today, I have some updates on some of my previous posts...

On The Other Side

Connecting to people through this post was an amazing experience. I don't often share my blog posts on facebook, but for this particular post, I did. The outpouring of love I received in return was incredible. I had a few comments here and a few comments on facebook, but additionally, I had a lot of people text me, message me, call me, and approach me in person. I heard from people that I never would have thought were struggling with the same thing - people I admire and look up to and want to be like! I also had a lot of men respond to my post, which was really cool.

On Would You Rather {special confession edition}

I'm happy to report that my gross problem has cleared up really nicely. Antifungal cream is the bees knees! Who knew? (No, really, did you know? Because I really didn't know!)

I bought a new yoga mat and tried it our at PiYo for the first time today.

On Halloween Prep

Target didn't have the accessory I needed for my Halloween costume, so I had to improvise a little bit. It worked out, though, and I wore my costume to a party at my mom's house last weekend, and I won a prize!

On an Interview with Scotty

Right after I interviewed Scotty, he started interviewing me. Then he fell asleep. Right in the middle of Question 8.

So there's a draft somewhere of my interview that might be completed someday if Scotty can ever stay awake long enough to do so.

On Pack Meeting Prep

Our pack meeting the other night turned out really well. We had a lot of positive feedback. The kids really liked the science experiments, and our mad scientist brought a few bonus items - a cow heart and four cow eyes. I was a little nervous about this, but everyone thought they were really cool. The weird part, though, was when I had to leave an iced cooler on my porch while I took my girls to the dentist so the "scientist" could leave them at my house. I came home from the dentist and checked to see if I'd received a delivery, and yep - there was a bag of cow parts in the cooler on my porch.

((shudder))

(I feel like I need to add that these organs were obtained via permit for educational purposes)

Sadly, we didn't get a single photo from pack meeting. Scotty and I are both pretty busy during pack meeting, so I think I might have to find someone in the ward to be our pack meeting photo guru (our former one moved, and I thought I could fill the void myself, but it's not happening!)

On Phone Woes

There are a couple of pictures on my phone that would be really great in this post, but since I can't use my phone right now, I'll have to sneak them into another post someday.

Have a good weekend, everyone! I'll be back tomorrow...

The Other Side

I've had several opportunities lately to hear stories from people who have endured faith crises. It has been a common theme in my recent encounters, including speaking engagements I've attended, podcasts I've listened to, and books and articles I've read.

I can't help but think of the prophecy of the last days in Doctrine & Covenants 88:91, "And all things shall be in commotion; and surely men's hearts shall fail them; for fear shall come upon all people."

In a book I once read called 65 Signs of the Times, the author suggested that depression is part of men's hearts failing them. As you may recall, I've recently managed some depression of my own, and I know from experience that depression can bring about a faith crisis. I, personally, dealt with a heavy amount of spiritual darkness for about 2-3 years (read more about the spiritual effects of depression here).

Some people who suffer from depression or who face a spiritual crisis describe a feeling of God not being there. Some feel abandoned - like He left them, and others feel like it's their own fault - like they pushed Him away.

Remember the Del Parson painting with Christ at the door?

There is no knob, so all Christ can do is knock, and it is up to the person on the other side of the door to open it.

When I was in the thick of my spiritual funk, I felt like Christ (or Heavenly Father - I believe they are two distinct beings, but this description could go for my relationship with either one) was right there - just on the other side of the door. He was so close, and yet, I was completely incapable of opening it. This was a heavy blow to me because it made me feel like my dysfunctional relationship with God and my Savior was all my fault because it was my job to open the door. He was right there, but I couldn't do what I needed to do to connect (learn about one way we can shift our thoughts about our relationship with Christ here).

During that time, I lost my ability to pray. I thought about prayer a lot, and I pondered on the things I needed to discuss with God. The pleas were in my heart, but I couldn't kneel down and send them heavenward. My mind was so foggy and muddled that prayer felt impossible.

Additionally, I rarely felt the Spirit. I struggled to prepare my Sunday school lessons because I would study the topics, and I would feel nothing. I could recall times in my life where I felt such a strong conviction of truth, but I didn't have that ability to feel anymore, at least not anything positive. It was all behind the door with no knobs while I was left on the other side with a slew of negative thoughts and emotions.

In September, I went to an event called Time Out for Women with some of my in-laws. Michael McLean, a popular LDS songwriter spoke at the event about a faith crisis of his own. For nine years he had been in spiritual darkness. One thing he decided to do was to "Show up and shut up." He kept going to church, and after a few incidents with expressing some negative emotions, he decided to stay quiet for a while. Eventually he came across the book, Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light. The book is a collection of letters that Mother Teresa wrote in which she expressed her own feelings of spiritual darkness.

For Mother Teresa, as soon as she began doing the work that she felt Christ called her to do, she stopped feeling Him near. She longed, more than anything, to have a relationship with God, but for over fifty years, she struggled to feel Him near (read a little more about Mother Teresa's story here).

Isn't it interesting how these things happen during crucial points of our lives? My own crisis began while I was serving as primary president. As I threw myself into service, I began to feel something leaving me. Soon after I was called to be the primary president, I took a leap of faith and went back to school while simultaneously taking another leap of faith and bringing my fourth child into the world. I didn't feel prepared to do either of those things, but when the Spirit pointed me in those directions, I decided to trust in the Lord. I believed with all my heart that I was doing what God wanted me to do, and yet, the door was closing between us. I was at a pivotal point in my life, and I found myself gasping for spiritual air.

Now, I wish I could say "the problem was THIS and the solution was THIS," but I don't have a foolproof formula for getting through depression or a faith crisis. Michael McLean didn't offer a foolproof formula, either. It's, indeed, different for everyone, but I've been blessed to have great results from medication. It has taken time, but I am ever improving, and I rejoice that I can feel the Spirit again. I am still working on praying, but it's getting better.

I felt extremely weak turning to medication. I truly believed that my crisis was my own doing, and that I just wasn't doing enough to get out of it, but now that I can see the difference it has made, I am not ashamed that I took the medication route. It helped get me to a place where I could act, and now I'm in a better emotional and mental place, and I am finally getting my spiritual groove back. I feel things again, and sometimes I feel them so passionately that I want to shout from the rooftops (I settle for texting my friends).

You know who else takes meds? Michael McLean.

In fact, he wrote a song about it. It's called "Pills," and you can read about it here.

I have a confession. For the last several years, I have not liked Michael McLean at all. I heard him speak a few years ago, and he came off as very pompous and arrogant. Little did I know, he was in the middle of his faith crisis. That just goes to show that we don't always know a person's heart. Now that I know Michael's story, I feel great compassion for him. Sometimes it's the person we least expect who is having the crisis.

One of the best things I've heard about depression came from a podcast from the Mormon Channel about mental and emotional health. In the discussion, a therapist explained that just because you have depression doesn't mean you are emotionally or mentally unhealthy. He said that some of the people he has helped over the years have had very severe depression, but they have been some of the most emotionally and mentally health people he has ever met. Recognizing you need help is a healthy skill.

I wish I could say I recognized it in myself right away, but I didn't. It wasn't until I heard someone I look up to describe her own struggle that I finally had the courage to question whether my spiritual crisis might be more than just my own shortcomings. That is why I've decided not to be quiet about it. Someone was brave enough to tell me that she needed help, and I admired her for it, so now it's my turn.

Another reason I'm writing this is because I want to share with you how much I have learned from this experience. I won't go into all of the specifics, I will just say that being on the other side of it has opened my eyes to so many incredible truths. I have learned by contrast - spiritual darkness vs spiritual light. This contrast has helped me recognize things in myself that I took for granted before. I am more aware of my strengths and abilities after losing them for a while. There was a time when I couldn't even go to the grocery store. Now, I am more capable, and I look at myself and think, "You bought milk today! You are amazing!" I find many more things to thank God for than I ever did before. I have not made a perfect return to my faith, I admit, but I am well on my way, and I know that I will continue to make progress. I'm very happy about that!

To those who may be facing a similar crisis, my heart goes out to you. I'm just beginning my journey on the other side of it, and I wish I could hold your hand and pull you over here. Please know that you are not alone. You are not weak. You are loved beyond measure, and there are good things waiting for you.