Belief and Mental Health

For some people, mental health is enhanced by religion. For others it may not be. Only the person going through it can judge for themselves. For me, my beliefs in my religion have been one of my greatest assets. I can say in all honesty that I wouldn’t be here if it were for my them. My belief in God and Christ has saved me, and it helps bolster up my mental health.

I’m not one of those people who believes everything happens for a reason. I do believe we can get something out of what life throws at us. Everything we go through can help us learn and grow, if we choose to let it. I don’t believe in a God whose pulling all the strings, but I do believe He does sometimes intervene. I have seen His hand in my life before. Sometimes it has come through my own feelings or intuition, sometimes certain circumstances or opportunities that have arisen, and sometimes it has been through other people. I had one of those experiences last week.

I was in the produce section of the grocery store when a woman approached me and told me she loved my jacket. It’s an official Shinedown jacket with the logo to their Planet Zero album on the front and some lyrics from the song Daylight on the back. “Have Faith That You’re Not Alone” I recently wrote a post about how much that song means to me. I love wearing the jacket, not just because it’s warm and comfortable, but because of the reminder. It’s special to me. This woman also found it special and inspirational, and I’m so grateful she chose to tell me.

That wasn’t the end, though. She asked what the story behind it was, so I told her and before I knew it we were talking like old friends who had always had a connection. Writing about it here can’t, and doesn’t, aptly describe just how amazing it felt to connect with this stranger on such a deep level. We both shared personal things about struggles we were going through and found understanding and connection. I told her, at some point, that sometimes it’s easier to talk to a stranger about those kinds of things than someone you know.

Almost a week later, and we’re no longer strangers. We traded information and have been texting ever since then. She has been a huge blessing in my life already. Being able to talk with someone who understands some of my struggles helps. Having someone who simply trusts me and my decisions helps. That is huge for my mental health. And it’s all because of my jacket. Because of Shinedown. Because of a song. Because of what that song means to me because of my husband. It’s because of God. I know—I know—that this woman and I were meant to meet and become friends. Knowing that God is aware of me and looking out for me helps me. I have seen so many blessings and had so many angels in my life the last couple of months. Despite how hard things have been my mental health is actually okay. Yes, there has been some added anxiety and depression, but considering what’s happened and where I’m at, I think I’m doing pretty good.

I know everyone is different. What helps and doesn’t help is different for everyone. In my story, my religion, my faith and my beliefs are a huge support and an enormous part of the reason why I’ve had the strength to get through. That gives me peace. And I need that. We all need peace. Where have you found peace? What helps you with your mental health?

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Faith in Humanity Restored

Sometimes we need our faith in humanity restored. At least I do. The past couple of months it has been hard not to focus on people who judge, condemn and selfishly choose to hurt others. I have seen a lot of that lately. Luckily, I’ve also seen the good, so I’m trying harder to focus on that and find ways to be that good myself.

Last weekend I went on a solo birding trip to the Uintah Basin in Eastern Utah. Long story shorter, forty-five minutes out from my hotel, in this tiny town in the middle of nowhere, I stopped at this amazing steakhouse. I’ve been a couple other times and loved it, so I decided to stop again. Unfortunately, I locked my keys in my car. I realized as soon as I shut the door and was so upset with myself. I walked into the restaurant and told them what had happened, and several people who worked there immediately jumped in to help me.

First, they gave me the number for dispatch. I called and found out the police didn’t have the equipment to help. I was given the number to a locksmith, that didn’t work. The people in the restaurant helped me try to find one, but there wasn’t one anywhere within a reasonable distance. Next, I was told to call an auto body shop, but it was closed as was the only other one remotely nearby.

I had no idea what I was going to do until one lady said she had broken into her car before and could try to help me. We went outside in the cold and snow armed with a knife and fly swatter. Go ahead, laugh. I’m laughing right now thinking about it. No, the knife and fly swatter didn’t work. But these people, these complete strangers, rallied behind me and said they were going to make sure I got my keys.

They told me to sit down and order, which I did. Half way through eating my meal one of the servers said a crew of people were out trying to get into my car. I asked if I should go help and she told me no, that they would take care of it.

Just after finishing my meal, someone came and handed me my keys! A mom had been called, as had a neighbor and a boyfriend. Between them all they were able to get my keys out. I was so amazed by the kindness of these strangers and the lengths they went through to make sure I had my keys back and could continue on my way. It reminded me that even though there are selfish, uncaring people in the world, there are also good people.

I got another reminder the day I got home from my trip. Life has been so incredibly difficult the past couple of months. Part of the difficulty has been a huge financial burden. One of my neighbors selflessly brought by some fresh eggs from her chickens. It was so thoughtful. And then again, I went to get my haircut yesterday from a wonderful neighbor. After she had finished and I went to pay her she told me she wanted to do something nice for me and wouldn’t take my money. I got emotional at the incredibly kind gesture that meant so much and really is a great help. I started thinking of all the people who have been there for me and helped in various ways the past few months—family, friends, neighbors, members of my church congregation. I truly feel like these people have been angels on earth to me. I have needed them, and they have blessed me. They have also inspired me to try to be like them. I, too, want to be part of the group who sees beyond their own struggles and reaches out to love and help others. My faith in humanity has been restored.

A Different Take on Daylight Savings Time

It’s 7:30 PM, and it’s still light outside. Heaven.

I know people tend to struggle with the hour jump ahead and most years I see a slew of complaining posts or memes about it losing an hour of sleep. Even though it happens every year, so it’s no surprise, people still complain. Sometimes it’s hard to see as it goes on and on and on, long past the actual day because I LOVE when Daylight Savings Time starts. Numerous studies have shown how beneficial it is for mental health to have more daylight in the evening. I know it is for me.

For most people it takes one day to one week for their bodies to adjust to the time change. Yet my body and mind never adjust to the move back to Standard Time in the fall, when the sun sets early and there is little light in the evening. Part of my struggle has to do with winter and less light in general, but a lot of it has to do with when the light is out. So from the moment we set our clocks back and supposedly get that extra hour of sleep to months later—not a day or a week, but months—my depression, anxiety and OCD rage. And when the day comes that we set the clocks ahead and some people lose an hour of sleep (it’s never really affected me much) my depression, anxiety and OCD lighten substantially.

So while a lot of people are out there complaining and sharing memes about how horrible DST is, I am here rejoicing—so happily rejoicing—that it’s now 7:42 PM and there’s still a little light out!

Music and Mental Health

Last weekend I went to a University band concert that was dedicated to mental health awareness. What an amazing concept—to have a concert dedicated to mental health. They played a piece called Unbroken by Randall Standridge. The program notes told the story of his mother who suffered from depression in a time when it was completely taboo to talk about mental illness. Eventually she had a complete mental breakdown and spent over a year in the hospital. During that time his dad kept the family together. After his mom got out of the hospital mental illness and mental health issues were spoken of openly and freely in their home. Standridge himself suffers from depression. He talked about how his mom didn’t break, the bond between his parents didn’t break and his family didn’t break.

The piece was absolutely amazing. There was a lot of dissonance, which accurately represents mental illness. But there were also moments of harmony and beauty. Even in the midst of mental illness there can be good times, there can be moments of beauty. And just because we have mental illness doesn’t mean we’re broken. We are still human. We are still whole. And we are beautiful.

The piece ended in dissonance, which I didn’t take as defeat or pessimism. I think part of it was to show that mental illness is real, and it needs to be discussed. More needs to be done about it. And for me, personally, I thought about how sometimes mental illness is situational. Sometimes people get the help they need and they overcome it, or it goes away. But for some of us, mental illness is lifelong. It never leaves. We may get help, we may learn to manage it, but it is always here, always a part of our lives, lurking in shadows, in the corners and crevices—when it’s not right out in the open doing everything to pull us down. That was what the ending dissonance meant to me. It was powerful. So powerful.

Something I loved was that the director gave his students the opportunity to share their own experiences with mental health. There were probably at least a dozen paragraphs in the program notes about personal struggles with mental illness. That was also powerful. I am so grateful this director (who I play under in a community band) gave these students a voice. Sometimes just being able to put it into words and share—even anonymously—helps.

A lot of the students wrote about how music had helped them and made a difference in their lives and their mental health journey. I, too, connect with that. Music has had an incredible impact on me my whole life, but especially lately, as I’ve struggled with all the boulders that have been dropped and bombs that have gone off—as I live in the rubble. I already wrote about a piece by Two Steps From Hell called Resilience. I have listened to that piece over and over and over again. The band Shinedown has also meant a lot to me. I’ve always loved them and considered them one of my favorite bands, but they have meant more to me than ever lately. Some songs I’ve known for years have taken on new meaning. Others that have always meant something mean even more. I listen to them over and over and over again as well. I have found strength, courage, hope, determination and peace in their songs. I’m so grateful for the difference music has made, and continues to make, in my life—and the lives of others. It may sound simplistic, but music truly can make a difference in our mental health—in small moments, long days and over the span of a lifetime.

Self-Care

One thing I appreciate about my therapist is that she knows the value of self-care. Every session I have with her she asks me if I’m doing things I enjoy or things that help with my mental health. I’ve been going to her for a year and a half or so, so she knows me well enough to ask specifics—birding, light therapy, walks, getting outside. Because of current struggles my initial motivation has been very low, so I’m grateful she asks and holds me accountable. If I haven’t been doing those things, she adamantly reminds me that I need to be doing them.

An interesting thing is that even though my motivation has been greatly lacking, I’ve actually been forcing myself to do these things. And when I do, I never regret it. I haven’t been sleeping well, so nights/mornings my kids are with their dad I tend to take a sleeping pill and try to sleep in late. A few days ago, however, I actually decided to wake up early and go birding at sunrise. Dawn is my absolute favorite time of the day. When my alarm went off I almost stayed in bed. Even though I wasn’t super motivated and didn’t immediately and happily jump out of bed I did decide to get up and go birding. I’m so glad I did! It felt amazing to be in a beautiful place in nature at dawn. And I got some great photos! Was I tired later? Sure, but I’m tired every day. Getting up early to do something I enjoy was absolutely worth it.

Self-care may not change the circumstances of our lives, but it is essential in helping with our mental health. Despite my current struggles and difficulties, I’ve been doing mostly okay lately, partly because I’ve been pushing myself to do the things I enjoy, even if it’s hard to get that initial motivation. Self-care is not selfish or indulgent. It is care for ourselves that is necessary.

An Update

Yesterday I saw my therapist. We did an ART (Accelerated Resolution Therapy) session. I swear, it’s like magic. It made such a huge difference. I have done several ART sessions before, but it has always been about specific trauma or learned behaviors from trauma that I was struggling with. I’d never done it about something as broad and general as depression. But it worked wonders! My therapist said she wished she had a picture of me when I walked in and after the ART was over because she could see a difference in me. We discussed medication and other options as well, but at this point I feel best about going in more often to have more ART sessions during the winter.

In simple terms, Accelerated Resolution Therapy combines eye movements and visualization to treat trauma, PTSD, anxiety, depression, etc. A good definition I found was that ART “works directly to reprogram the way in which distressing memories and images are stored in the brain so that they no longer trigger strong physical and emotional reactions.” https://acceleratedresolutiontherapy.com/ It has worked for me in a truly life-changing way. After the session yesterday I felt as if a huge, heavy burden had been lifted off my shoulders. I feel hope again.

I wouldn’t say ART “cured” my depression or took it away. It’s still here, like it’s here every winter. And every spring it goes away. That’s why I’m going to do ART more often this winter, until there’s more warmth, light and sunny skies in the world. I do think that medication has its place, and I’m going to talk to a doctor about medication for anxiety because my anxiety never goes away. But for now, I feel good about continuing with the plan I have in place. I think that’s one of the most important things to remember about mental health. When you find something that works, stick with it.

Not Doing Well

It’s been hard to find the motivation to write. It’s been hard to find the motivation to do anything. I’m not doing well. Winter hit sooner than usual this year, and it hit hard. The last several years people have still been out mowing their lawns the first weekend of December, but we’ve had snow and cold temperatures since the middle of November, it seems. And it hasn’t gone away. My depression hasn’t been this bad in a long, long time, and my anxiety is also the worst it’s been in—well, maybe ever. I’ve been having almost daily panic attacks for weeks now, often multiple a day.

I’ve been having a hard time distinguishing between what’s real and what’s just the depression. I try to be logical, to remind myself that depression is a liar, but it’s hard when I feel like there’s so much evidence that I am a horrible mother, a horrible wife and just a horrible person in general who is not doing enough. Who simply isn’t enough and never will be. I keep asking myself why I’m even trying, when it doesn’t seem to matter.

Logically, I can look at what I am doing and see how much better I am at dealing with my mental illness than I used to. Despite just how much it takes from me to get out of bed every morning, I do get out of bed. I get my kids to school. I exercise. I’ve been going to light therapy even though I’d rather stay in bed all day. It takes longer than on healthy days, but I still have been getting dressed, doing dishes, cleaning, getting dinner ready (some nights), going to church, trying to socialize when I can. Yet, every day, as I sit alone crying, feeling so alone and worthless, I don’t feel that I’m doing better or that I’m doing good enough. I don’t feel as if I’m being the person I’m supposed to be. I don’t feel what the logic is telling me.

I have an appointment with my therapist tomorrow. I might want to try medication again, despite the fact that my last several attempts years ago didn’t work. I have to hope that something will help.

Mental Illness is Not Math

One plus one might always equal two, but people and mental health can’t be measured like math, so it frustrates me when people who have absolutely no experience with mental illness act like it can be—like we are all the same or should all be the same.

One of my daughter’s school teachers recently made a bunch of inaccurate assumptions about her and her mental health, then gave his own son as an example of how he is thriving under the same circumstances. I’ve had others who have done the same thing. They expect everyone to be exactly the same—a “1+1=2 for me or this person I know so 1+1=2 for you and this person you know” type of thing. But that simply isn’t the case when it comes to mental health.

Just because medication works great for one person doesn’t mean it will work great for someone else. Just because one person gets a lot out of therapy doesn’t mean this other person will. Just because one person thrives under pressure doesn’t mean everyone will, can or even should be expected to.

The reasons for mental illness are also varied. This same teacher made the assumption that stress from this one extracurricular activity is what is causing my daughter’s mental health struggles right now and that she just shouldn’t do it again next year. In fact, my daughter really enjoys the activity and is having fun doing it right now. Her mental illness is genetic. There is a lot of mental illness on my side and her dad’s side. She has a genetic predisposition towards it. And just because she enjoys this activity doesn’t mean it’s going to cure her. There are other things that do help her, though, so it’s important that she has the ability to do those things.

This is why I keep blogging about mental health and mental illness, why I feel so strongly that I need to keep trying to educate people. Despite how far our understanding and acceptance of mental illness has come in recent years there are still way too many people who have such an archaic belief and understanding of it. Rather than trying to put everyone is a small, tiny, tight, too-cramped box, let’s open our minds and try to be more loving and understanding.

Anxiety is Exhausting

Something people may not realize is how tiring it can be for those of us with anxiety, who are also introverts, to be around a group of people. It’s not that we don’t want to be around people (though admittedly sometimes we don’t), but it takes a lot out of us.

I thought about this last week when I was at band rehearsal. I recently joined a community band, and I’m loving it! Playing the flute is something that has brought me so much joy through the years. As I’ve gotten better at identifying my own symptoms of anxiety or oncoming panic attacks and have been able to think about what I can do to help I’ve played my flute more. Even if it’s just for five or ten minutes it is something that has helped calm or stop panic attacks or has helped lessen anxiety.

I have wanted to play in a group for so long, but even if the opportunity came up I was never at a place in my life where I would have been able to join. Luckily, I’m at that place now. We have had three rehearsals so far, and I’m so grateful to be a part of it. I really do love being with this group, but sometimes it’s hard being around a bunch of people. Last week was particularly hard. Part of it was probably that I’m feeling insecure. Even though I have played my flute through the years, I have mostly played easy, melodic pieces because that’s what I love, that’s what I connect with. I haven’t challenged myself much, and now we are playing pieces that I could have easily gotten in high school, but I’m really struggling with now. Several of the other flute players are much younger, but more recently out of high school and haven’t lost the ability, so I feel rather embarrassed at my skill level right now. Add on top of that other stresses of life, and I was absolutely exhausted after coming home from rehearsal last week. I actually broke down in tears when my husband asked how rehearsal was. I felt kind of stupid because I truly enjoy playing and being in a band again. But just being around so many people spiked my anxiety and took so much out of me.

I guess what I want people to know is that it’s perfectly normal for those of us with anxiety to get exhausted being around other people, even when we’re not expected to talk with them. I also think it goes back to the fact that anxiety can sometimes come off as snobbish or standoffish. But that’s not it. It’s just that it is so hard for us, and it can be extremely tiring and take a lot out of us. So be patient. Realize it’s not you. It’s the horrible anxiety that we have to live with. And we’re trying.

Let’s Be There For Each Other

I’ve been finding myself inspired by quotes lately. It might sound cheesy, but we live in a world where it’s so easy to just post a quote on social media. I have a friend who does nothing but post inspirational quotes on Facebook. Many of them have been what I needed to hear in that moment and some have led me to think and ponder. The quote I’m inspired by today says, “Someone who drowns in seven feet of water is just as dead as someone who drowns in twenty feet of water. Stop comparing traumas, stop belittling you or anyone else’s trauma because it wasn’t ‘as bad’ as someone else’s. This isn’t a competition. We all deserve support and recovery.”

Something I’ve come to learn in life is that no one “has it made”. At least I’ve never met anyone who does. We all have struggles. We all suffer. In this age of social media it’s easy to look at someone else’s life (through the lens of Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, TikTok, etc.) and think everyone else is having so much fun, doing awesome things and living this great, struggle and trauma-free life. But that just isn’t true.

It can also be easy to think that others must not be struggling as much or that they must be happier because of all the things they have and are doing that we don’t have or don’t get to do. That also isn’t true. The past year-and-a-half I’ve got to travel to San Diego and Hawaii. I even got to go to The Rock ‘N’ Roll Hall of Fame (a life-long dream of mine) several months ago. We’re building an addition onto our house that is going to give me and my husband this big dream closet. There are good things happening, but there has also been so much hell that I’ve been through as well. It got so bad at one point last year that I tried to take my own life. From the outside looking in it may appear that I am one of those people who does have it made. But just because I’ve been able to travel some and am getting a big closet doesn’t mean that horrible things haven’t happened. It doesn’t mean trauma hasn’t punched me in the face and beaten me to a pulp. Because it has.

As an advocate for mental health I believe it is so important not to judge and not to compare struggles and trauma. Instead, I believe we should be looking for connection and extending empathy and compassion—even when we can’t see or don’t know what someone else is going through. Some people, like myself, are very open about our struggles and seek to educate others on mental illness issues. Others keep those things to themselves, and that is okay. It took me many years to open up about my depression, anxiety and OCD. And even now, there are things I choose not to share or go into detail about—for various reasons. I respect everyone’s choices about what they do or don’t share with others. Through my own painful experiences I have learned that no one has a perfect life and everyone has trials, struggles and suffers through difficult things in life. This means we all have more in common with each other and aren’t as alone or misunderstood as we might think.

My hope is that we can all be more loving, understanding and compassionate with each other. Just because our trauma is different doesn’t mean one is worse than the other. And one of the best ways to help ourselves is to be there for each other.