Let's Stop Downplaying Mental Illness

At one point or another in your life you have probably been sad, really sad. You have probably experienced disappointment, death of a loved one or failed at something that really upset you. What you may not have experienced is depression. You may have nonchalantly said, "I'm so depressed" at some point in your life when you momentarily suffered sadness, but you probably don't really know what it means. Because if you have actually been "so depressed" then you know there is nothing momentary about it.

Maybe you know someone, are married to someone, or are related to someone who actually suffers from real, chronic depression. Maybe you have thought, Why don't they just have a more positive attitude? Why are they such a downer? Why can't they just stop? Maybe you have said to someone, "Just stop being so sad," "You just need to be more positive," or the worst, "If you'd pray more you would just be happy."

Mental illness is, well, AN ILLNESS. When someone is diagnosed with cancer and can't get out of bed, no one thinks, Why don't they just get up? Or says, "Have you tried just not having cancer?" But we downplay mental illness like its not a real disease, because if you haven't actually suffered it you just can't understand it. You can't understand the crippling effects of depression or anxiety. You can't understand the constant negative, terrifying thoughts or the inability to find joy or motivation in anything.

Although, I've never had cancer and I still know it must be hell. As a society we are quick to sympathize when it comes to diseases we can see, but quicker to judge diseases of the mind. It must stop. Let's stop downplaying Mental Illness.

• Suicide takes the lives of nearly 40,000 Americans every year. (save.org)
• Globally, more than 350 million people of all ages suffer from depression. (dosomething.org)
• 1 in 5 adults experiences a mental health condition every year. 1 in 20 lives with a serious mental illness such as schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. (nami.org)
• 50% of mental health conditions begin by age 14 and 75% of mental health conditions develop by age 24. (nami.org)
• PTSD affects about 7.7 million Americans (nami.org)
• When experiencing an [depressive] episode, teens have an increased risk for suicide. In fact, suicide is the third-leading cause of death among children aged 15-19. (nami.org)
• People with eating disorders often have additional illnesses: Depression, Anxiety disorders, Borderline personality disorder, Obsessive-compulsive disorder (nami.org)

I have battled depression, anxiety, and an eating disorder since my late teens. There were days I simply wished I didn't have to get out of bed and face the day, and days I just wanted to die. Don't tell me it isn't real. Don't tell me I could've changed that with a more positive attitude. Don't tell me I didn't have enough faith in God or I just didn't pray enough. Don't downplay my mental illness, or anyone else's.

Because it is National Eating Disorder Awareness Week, that's what I want to talk about. As I struggled under the weight of mental illness, I fell victim to Anorexia. It was an addiction that wrecked years of my life, and has become a battle I will fight for all my life.

GirlZone posted a great article titled Almost Anorexic. You should definitely go read it, but this was the part that inspired my thoughts today: 

"While most mental illnesses elicit empathy, anorexia nervosa is often met with envy (“You are so thin!”) and sometimes doubt (“Why don't you just eat?”)... Why does a serious, life-threatening illness with one of the highest mortality rates of any psychiatric disorder inspire such cachet and even skepticism?...you surely haven't heard someone say, “Why don't you just stop having cancer?”"

If you are "Almost" Anorexic, you fall under the diagnosis of Other Specific Feeding or Eating Disorder (OSFED), meaning you meet much of the Anorexia Nervosa criteria, except being underweight. Most people suffering eating disorders are not visibly and dangerously underweight. Despite the the implications of the word almost, anorexia is anorexia, and being "Almost" Anorexic does not mean you have "failed" in becoming a full blown Anorexic, or that you can't or don't need help because haven't "achieved" the diagnosis definition of Anorexia Nervosa. 

I repeat, LET'S STOP DOWNPLAYING MENTAL ILLNESS!

If you know someone who is restricting, binging or purging, talk to them. Help them get help. Love them. Get educated. Don't downplay it. 

If you're restricting, binging, or purging (bulimia) you are at risk! You have an eating disorder. Don't downplay it. You need help. Get help. Love yourself. Be brave. You can, I promise.


XO.

 

 

 

 

What to Expect When You're Not Expecting

You've most likely read the book, seen the movie, have the app, visited the website, or have at least heard of What To Expect When You're Expecting. For expecting mothers it is a fun way to follow each week of your pregnancy, like "today your baby is the size of a papaya," and "did you know your baby has fingernails?"  **insert more Juno quotes here

But what about when you're not expecting??? What do you expect then?

It's not like most of us grow up expecting to be infertile. Maybe some who have endured the horrors of endometriosis, PCOS, or other troubles receive some warning from doctors along the way. (But even then, you never know! Miracles do happen! Congrats again, Brandleys!!)

I, certainly, did not ever expect infertility would ever be part of my life. I didn't have any indications before trying that would have warned me. And I never had anyone really close to me have trouble getting pregnant. In fact, I had more experience seeing people who needed What to Expect When You Weren't Expecting to be Expecting.

So I'm here to tell you what no one ever told me:

What to Expect When You're Not Expecting

Expect for getting pregnant to not be easy. I know it seems like everyone is getting knocked up right and left. Trust me, I KNOW! But, for the most part, it actually is normal to take 6 months to a year to conceive. You aren't even considered infertile until you've been trying to conceive for a full year. It sucks, a lot, but you are not alone! There are actually a lot of us. Those who say "Let's have a ba... OH! I'm pregnant!" are actually more rare than those of us struggling with infertility. Don't be surprised that it is hard. I mean come on, think about the human reproductive system and how much has to be in the right place at just the right time! It is a miracle anyone gets pregnant!! Am I right?!

Expect a lot of idiots. From the moment you get married, like at your reception, some fools will start asking when you are going to have kids. Like it is any of their damn business! Expect this immediately and for years to follow, and just be ready with witty responses that will make them as uncomfortable as their question. "So, when are you guys going to start having kids?" "Hopefully, 9 months from this morning!" *wink wink*  "So, why don't you guys have kids yet." "Because we hate children." "Because he's got slow swimmers." "Because my uterus is an inhospitable environment for fetal development."  "Because... oh wait, our sex life is none of your damn business!" Sheeeeesh!

Expect to be told to "Just Relax." Like I said, expect a lot of idiots. Especially during the first 2 years, a lot of people will tell you "You're thinking about it too much," or "Don't stress about it and it will just happen," and "Jusssst relax." These people are uneducated and have no idea the emotional turmoil that is associated with finding out that you have a medical condition preventing you from conceiving naturally. Just ignore the fools!

Expect advice you never asked for from people in no position to give it. Again, idiots. Everyone will have a solution for you. Everyone will know someone who tried "A" and got "B," and without knowing your condition they will suggest you do exactly what that person did and promise you the same results. Everyone will have a story for you about a friend of a cousin who tried for 5 years, adopted and then ended up having 5 more kids naturally. Try to remember that they probably mean well and they are trying to be supportive. Also, try not to punch them in the face.

Expect to cry... A Lot. After you've passed that year mark you're going to experience embarrassing breakdowns. Just expect it. You'll be minding your own business, just shopping one day and you'll stumble into the baby department and begin to uncontrollably bawl. It's okay. Nobody probably saw you, and if they did OH WELL. Have your good ugly cry right there in public, and then move on. You'll cry when you get a baby shower invite and you'll probably have to excuse yourself to go in the bathroom to cry at that shower. You'll cry when you seen birth announcements on Facebook. You might even cry every month when you get your period. (GUILTY!) Sometimes you won't even be able to pinpoint a trigger, but you'll just start bawling while you're cooking dinner. It needed salt anyway, right? Its okay.

Expect awkward moments. Aside from way too many people asking and knowing about your sex life, there will be other awkward moments. Like, if you work at a place with a lot of women who have had babies and clients ask you how yours is doing, "Nooooot meeeee." And then they insist they know you told them you were pregnant last time they came in, "Ohhh... yeaaah I was... I-had-a-miscarriage..." Awkward pause. Then they start to cry and apologize and you try to assure them its fine and its been months and not to worry, then you go to the bathroom and cry cause, well, you do that a lot! You cannot prepare for these moments, hence the awkward. And I'm super awkward so I have know wise wisdom for you on getting out of this.

Expect to learn a lot. Infertility advantage? I now know more than I ever have about my uterus and ovaries. I know way more about my reproductive system than most women who have had 5 kids. When it comes easily, you have no idea what an effort it really is. So read up, learn a lot, and use the knowledge to your advantage. Educate yourself and others.

Expect to get angry. I am a firm believer in throwing tantrums. Maybe its my red hair, but a good hair-pulling, pillow-punching, cup-throwing, curse-filled tantrum is sometimes the best way to feel better! If you're like me, you'll hold it in for too long and try to put up the ever-positive, see-my-big-smile front to make sure everyone thinks your fine. Eventually, you have to find the right place and time to let it out. Lock yourself in your room, scream and throw things. When you feel sufficiently exhausted and your voice is hoarse, pick yourself up, clean up and move on. Trust me, it will feel AMAZING. And forgive yourself when you don't make the time for the private tantrum and lose it on the client at work who wants to know why you don't have kids if you've been married for 4 years. She'll learn a lesson she needed to, and you'll still feel better.

Expect to give up every now and then. Infertility is emotionally, mentally and physically exhausting. Sometimes you have to give it up for a little while. Expect to need to take breaks, and allow it! Maybe you'll need one or your partner will. Either way, it is okay. No one can judge you for this. You have to do what is right for you and for your sanity. Take a month, 6 months, a year, or even just be done. It is your body and your life. You and your partner get to decide when enough is enough.

Do not expect for everyone to be understanding or sympathetic to your struggle. You may have friends or family who just don't understand, or who are too selfish to care. I'm so sorry if you have to deal with this. It is unfair and they are jerks. Like I said, expect idiots.

Do not expect a single, quick solution. You and your partner will probably endure a lot of testing and a lot of trial and error. Sorry, but there is no single fix. Infertility results from SO many different problems and it will take a lot and a while to work out the kinks. Just do what you can and try. That's all you can do.

SORRY, do not expect a lot of financial help. Most insurance companies do not offer infertility coverage, even though it is a diagnosed condition and you see a doctor. There are some changes in the works, but they are small. Save your money and do what you can.


It sucks. Infertility freaking sucks. I know. But there are a lot of us, and even if we don't know each other we are enduring together, crying together, throwing tantrums together and learning together. It really is okay. Somehow, someday, some way, it will some how work out how it should. In the mean time just try to enjoy the journey somehow, even if you're not expecting.

XO.

God loves me a Diet Mt. Dew

Sometimes it is the little miracles in life that make me a believer.

Just when I'm thinking, "I'm exhausted, I'm grumpy and I'm just sad that everyone is pregnant and having babies without me" an unopened bottle of Diet Mt. Dew rolls out from under a seat in the car like ultimate proof that God loves me!

God doesn't always make himself known in massive, miraculous displays of affection that change our lives forever. Sometimes he takes the time to give us small, tender mercies that say, "I'm aware of you, I'm aware of how you've been feeling. I hear you, I'm here for you, and I love you." 

Sometimes it is hard to accept God's timing, and it is especially hard when our desire is so righteous. Its not like I've been praying for God to make me a millionaire for the last 3 years. I've been praying for a child. Honestly, there have been times when I have wondered where God was and why he wasn't answering my plea. Why didn't he think I deserved to be a mother? Why wouldn't he answer me? I guess I have a hard time remembering that "No" is also an answer.

We get caught up in this idea that if we are good and God loves us then we'll just get the righteous desires of our hearts. Well, if that were the case this life would be WAY too easy. We aren't here for easy. We aren't here for only, "Yes!" answers. Sometimes God tells us "No" or "Not right now." We just have to have the faith to trust in him and keep going, because we cannot measure his love by the number of times he says "Yes" to us.

God's love is measured in blessings and, despite the things we do not have, there are always things to be grateful for!

God's love for me is measured by a sweet husband who loves me no matter what, makes me laugh when I want to cry, and fills my life with happiness.
God's love for me is measured by a family that supports and lifts us through our trials, who never give up on us and endure with us.
God's love for me is measured by a text that says "I've been thinking about you."
God's love for me is measured by a phone call just when I needed it.
God's love for me is measured by kisses from nephews.
God's love for me is measured by hugs from moms or blessings from dads.
God's love for me is measured by a church talk that is everything I needed to hear.
God's love for me is measured by a treat left on my desk at work.

...and God's love is measured in a 24 oz bottle of Diet Mt. Dew.

Look for the little miracles. Count your blessings. God loves you, even if the answer to your question is "No."

XO.

HAPPY New Year

What began as the happiest year of our lives became the month from hell, followed by roller coaster months of depression, and now ends as the year we learned and loved more than any other.

A year ago I welcomed the New Year with one eye open, snuggled up in bed with Ty. I had fallen asleep during our Friends marathon hours before midnight, but Tyler had quietly kissed me awake and rubbed my little bump, "Happy New Year. Welcome to the best year of our lives." It was the perfect way to begin the most perfect year. At long last, we would finally have what we'd always wanted.

I never could have imagined that 2 weeks later we would find out that our little baby's heart had stopped beating, that the thing we loved most in the world was suddenly gone.

To say this year was hard would be an understatement. My process of miscarrying was awful, to say the least. My body just couldn't let go of that little miracle... maybe I just needed more time. After 7 tiring days of bleeding, contracting, and indescribable pain I finally landed in the ER, hemorrhaging. Exhausted, heartbroken and scared, I was taken in for my first surgery in my life.

The 6 weeks of physical recovery were followed by months of emotional recovery for both Tyler and I. We each had to deal in our own way. Eventually, Tyler had to admit that he was angry with God, and face Him at last to repair their relationship. Eventually, I had to admit that my depression was crippling me and seek the help of medication.

And then, as the dreaded Holidays neared, we looked at each other one night and, surprisingly, realized we were Happy. 

At long last, we are really Happy. We still don't have what we'd been hoping for. We have no evidence to give us hope that this next year will bring us anything different than the last 3. We do not have the baby we'd expected to have. We are still missing a piece from each of our hearts. But the fractures are healing and it doesn't hurt as much just to breathe. When we smile it it real, and when we laugh it is the beautiful sound I've missed so much. We are finally Happy. Happy together and happy with this life. Despite it all, this life of ours is ours. It is still good. And we are still madly in love. The trials that could have broken us strengthened us. We survived a year we didn't think we could. And we are Happy.

This is still a good life.

XO.

Holidays with Empty Arms

To all the Moms and Dads with empty arms this holiday,

First of all, I love you. Whether I know you or not, we are kindred spirits. I love you for your strength, and even for your weakness.

I have always loved the holiday season, and I still do...
but this year is definitely hard to enjoy.

This time last year we were sending Christmas cards to our closest friends and families announcing the coming of baby Boston. We received phone calls that were all shouts and sobs. We got tearful bear hugs and I got belly rubs. When I told my aunts, there was so much jumping and shouting house shaking that a ceramic plate fell off my Grandma's hutch and shattered Sorry Grandma! And a few days before Christmas I awoke to a swollen bump under my pajamas.

I never could have guessed I'd reach this Christmas with empty arms.

...But here we are, just the two of us, setting up our Christmas tree and hanging the ornament we made from our first ultrasound.

Isn't it just hard?! Still hard to believe your baby really isn't here? Harder to believe that you made it? I mean, really, surviving is pretty freaking hard.

Some days I still can't decide which is worse. Infertility or Miscarriage? They're both terrible, and together they're what nightmares are made of. But as much as losing Boston broke me, I still would choose carrying him for 13 weeks over never having him at all.

I don't know how to explain the wholeness you feel the moment you see that flicker and hear the rapid thud of your tiny little baby's heartbeat. I mean, infertility is it's own awful pain. It's like you feel like you're missing out on something, and you just... want it. But miscarriage is the gut-wrenching, soul-aching pain of having part of yourself ripped away. You were suddenly so whole, and then just as suddenly you are only part of who you were. Where once you were making life, you are now empty. And it hurts. It hurts like hell.

And all the while, the world doesn't stop. Life moves on with or without you. Everyone that was pregnant with you, had babies without you. Every "first" you looked forward to is had by others, and all you can do is watch and move along. But you have to keep moving and participating. Trust me, we tried sitting it out a few rounds but it didn't make it better. It only made us bitter.
And bitterness never was happiness.

So, we move forward. We keep them in our hearts where their memory can hold the broken pieces together. We keep them in our hearts that are slowly beginning to heal.

Know you aren't alone. Like I said, even if I don't know you, I love you. I understand you. I broke like you. I ache with you. I'll heal with you. And, more important than my love is God's love for you. Christ understands our pain and our aching. He bore our griefs. His love heals.

I offer a simple prayer for all of us, May God grant us peace, comfort, and the serenity to accept the things we cannot change. May He someday, somehow fill our empty arms.

Love & Merry Christmas to you all

Xo

Crying in Target is a Solution

I stopped at Target after a long day at work to pick up a few things. As I wandered past the baby section, I stopped to look for Christmas presents for the nephews. I sifted through the Christmas jammies and thought about celebrating Boden's first Christmas this year. I thought about how it would have been our baby's first Christmas, as well. I thought about how this time last year I was pregnant. I thought about how different this year is ending than it began.

I clung to the 3-6 month footie pajamas that I could have been buying for my baby's first Christmas and began to cry. Yep, I cried right there in Target. It wasn't a weeping-and-wailing kind of cry, but it wasn't a single, solitary tear either. It was somewhere between just-enough-to-be-embarrassing and not-too-attention-drawing.

After a while, and a prayer of thanks that no one had seemed to notice me, I hung up the pajamas and made my way out of the baby department, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.

This fall has been an emotional one, with Boston on my mind so much. Deciding to take a long break from fertility treatments has been relieving and painful. Its good to have a break after 3 years, but its also been hard to accept what is and make peace with this trial. Making peace with God to help me accept that now is not my time to be a mother. Making peace with the possibility that I may never get pregnant again. Making peace with myself that I will be okay if that is the case. Making peace with the fact that this is not the first cry I've had in the baby clothes department, and that it probably won't be my last.

Sunday I taught a lesson at church on "How can I find solutions to my challenges and problems?" We read the story of Christ calming the sea, "And there arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full.

And he was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow: and they awake him, and say unto him, Master, carest thou not that we perish?

And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.

And he said unto them, Why are ye so fearful? How is it that ye have no faith?"
Mark 4: 37-40

As I read that, I thought, how often do I expect the Lord to just hurry up and calm my life's storms? How often do I sink in my trials, calling out, "Master, carest not that I perish?" And how often does the Lord respond, "How is it that ye have no faith?" 

Heavenly Father can't stop every bad thing from happening to us, but he can stand by our side as we endure. I don't know who said it, but I love the quote, "Sometimes God calms the storm. Sometimes he lets the storm rage and calms the child." I have felt the Lord calm me many times during this trial, even in the middle of a breakdown in the baby department at Target. I know I have grown and learned so much through hardship, and I know I still have much more to learn. 

So, how can I find solutions to my problems? I can read my scriptures every day for guidance. I can pray for strength to weather my storms, rather than for the storms to calm. Tyler and I can spend more time on each other and strengthening our marriage to withstand this trial. I can take advantage of the time I have now to cultivate my talents, and better myself. 

And I can accept that, sometimes, crying in Target is a solution, as well.

XO.