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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What Forgiveness Has Done For Me

Forgiveness. I won’t preach it to you. I, for one, have struggled with it at times in my own life. What I can do is share my experiences with it. I already wrote about one. You can read it here. https://silencespeaksdotblog.wordpress.com/2017/08/31/the-power-of-forgiveness/

I think there are misconceptions about forgiveness. One is the notion of forgive and forget. I read an article once by a member of my church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/ensign/2004/08/forgiveness-our-challenge-and-our-blessing?lang=eng In it Steve F. Gilliland says that in most cases, short of brain surgery, it’s not possible to forget what someone did to you. That’s not what forgiveness is. Forgiveness is being able to remember something, but not have the same feelings associated with it. Just because you haven’t forgotten what someone did to you doesn’t mean you haven’t forgiven.

Another misconception is that forgiveness means continuing to have a relationship with someone who is abusive or toxic. Elder Jeffery R. Holland put this myth to rest when he said, “It is, however, important for some of you living in real anguish to note what [Christ] did not say. He did not say, ‘You are not allowed to feel true pain or real sorrow from the shattering experiences you have had at the hand of another.’ Nor did He say, ‘In order to forgive fully, you have to reenter a toxic relationship or return to an abusive, destructive circumstance.’” https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2018/10/the-ministry-of-reconciliation?lang=eng There are abusive and toxic people that I know longer have in my life. That is to protect the mental and physical health of myself and my children. When I think of the things they things they did to me or the toxic behavior they continuously exhibited I no longer feel anger, hurt, sadness or fear. It’s possible to forgive and also have boundaries or cut ties altogether.

I’ve heard some people say that forgiveness doesn’t help you, it only helps the person who hurt you—as if forgiving means you are okay with what someone did or don’t think there need to be any consequences. I don’t think this is true. Forgiveness lifts the burden of pain off your shoulders—at least it has for me. Life has been a struggle. I recently wrote about a curve ball boulder that hit me. Since then, it feels as if boulder after boulder after boulder has been dropped on me. Some might say that I should be angry, but anger doesn’t help me or anyone around me. Forgiveness and giving that anger over to God has helped me understand more than I ever have before what it means to give my burden to God. Is there still some pain, sadness and uncertainty? Yes. But I feel lighter and more capable. I still believe in consequences. I can believe in them and still forgive, still have that burden removed.

For me, forgiveness turned an enemy into a friend (my previous story), and it has also allowed me to continue going despite incredibly difficulty. It has brought me incredible peace and strength. If forgiveness has made a difference in your life, I’d love to hear about it.

Perspective and Growth

Have you ever made an assumption or judgment about someone, sure you know or understand the whole story? Sure you know exactly what they should have done or what you would have done in their place? Then, have you ever found yourself in a similar circumstance and realized you now understand why they did what they did? Maybe you even find yourself thinking the same way or making the same decision. It’s amazing how perspective can change once you’re faced with the same challenge and same decision.

There is a story, that’s not mine to tell, that happened 10-15 years ago. This woman made a decision that I thought was so stupid. So stupid! I couldn’t believe she had made this decision. It seemed unfathomable to me and just plain wrong. All these years later, and I have found myself in a similar situation—not exactly the same, but similar. And I suddenly understand this woman. I understand why she made the choice she did. I understand how she must have felt. I understand how hard it probably was for her, as I’m sure others told her she was stupid and wrong. And I’m ashamed of myself for being so judgmental. Because here I am, hoping for a similar outcome as the one she had because of the choice she made—the one I had thought was stupid and wrong.

I’m so grateful we have the opportunity to learn and grow—in so many different ways. I’m hoping that being able to see things from this different perspective helps me to become less judgmental. I do believe in consequences. But I also believe in love and forgiveness. Those things have brought me peace in difficult times, and I’ve learned through my life that peace is one of the most important things we can have.

Have you ever had a change in perspective? And how have you seen growth in your life?

Peace on the Horizon

My wonderful, amazing husband shared this with me not too long ago and I told him I would love to be able to share it on my blog, so he wrote it up. I hope you all find it as thought-provoking and inspiring as I did.

It’s interesting how images and photographs can sometimes convey so much more than is apparent at first glance.  I have a series of three photographs hanging in my office.  They were taken by a very talented friend of mine, Alli McPhail (@alli_eliz on Instagram), and are of Lake Michigan, a place with significant meaning to me.  The photographs are stunning!  The angle of shot, the moments captured, the framing and color; it all comes together so beautifully.  Although I appreciate the quality of those photographs, it is the symbolism of their contents that immediately grasped my attention and drove my desire to display them.

All three photographs are of the water.  Yep, just water.

The first image shows the gentle ebb and flow found on the surface of the water.  Gradual lulls and slow drops with subtle ripples fill the frame.  To me, this symbolizes day-to-day life with its slight ups and downs that gently rock and sway.  The high moments offer a broader glimpse of the good in life, while the lows bring things closer and into focus.  It is in these moments we live most of our lives.  Not the super highs and triumphant joys we can (and hopefully) experience, nor the very difficult struggles we go through.  Just the normalcy of an overall peaceful and content existence.  We aren’t knocked around, there’s no fear or danger, just a movement in which we find peace and happiness in sync with the waves.  In these times, it is easier to go about our lives.  It is easier to appreciate the joys we have.  It is easier to work through difficult emotions, slight conflicts, and disappointments.  It is easier to be strong for others.  In these moments, we feel at peace and recognize our worth.

The second image shows a different moment in the water.  The gentle ebb and flow of a wave is being displaced by a crashing, tumultuous one that will completely rock the surface of the water.  The two are at odds, pitted against each other in a beautifully captured moment.  The peace of the gentle wave can still be seen, but the viewer knows it is fleeting and will soon be destroyed by the overwhelming crash of the raging one.  To me, this is an image I know all too well.  In me lives this moment far too often.  Two sides of me fight over unbearable conflicts and disparaging situations.  My gentle days are often disrupted in this brutal manner by situations and circumstances in my life which are both in and out of my control.  I find myself at war; logic versus emotion, the past versus the present, desires versus needs, perception versus reality.  This photo displays the warring parts of me in breathtaking beauty.  In these times, it is much more difficult to see beyond the wave crashing upon us.  It is much more difficult to focus on joy, on peace, on value and worth.  Big crashing moments overtake us, causing fear, causing intensity, causing worry and doubt as they become all we feel and see.  In these moments, I struggle to get through them, desperately seeking the gentle waves while finding it difficult to believe I deserve the peace it would bring.  More often than not, my only course of action is to try and hold on, let it crash upon me, and wait it out while hoping it doesn’t leave irreparable wreckage behind.  I find myself struggling to keep my emotions in check, struggle to see beyond the immediate heartache and difficulty, and struggle to even do the things which can bring me peace once again.

I will admit there have been times where I barely, barely held on.  Where waiting it out seemed an impossible task.  Where the crashing, tumultuous wave seemed too great to ever find peace in its wake.  But it does pass.  Even writing that seems difficult to believe, but I know it to be true.  When nothing is causing water to have waves, the water will settle and be completely at peace.  I believe our lives are meant to be at peace.  I believe our default setting is to be at peace.  Fighting through those dark moments and holding on to a broader perspective can help us see past the moments which thrash us about.  Holding on, even to a rocking boat, can help us get through it.

This brings me to the third photograph.  A photo of water stretching out before me and going much further than I am able to see.  In the foreground of this photo are those gentle waves, but some of the highs are higher than others and some of the lows lower than hoped for.  In the foreground, one can see clearly the broken surface of the water with its many ripples, shaping moments and variety.  Moving our eyes up towards the horizon, however, the water appears to gradually smooth out until it becomes a flat, straight line separating water and sky.  From this distance, we cannot see the ebb and flow, the highs and lows, the crashing waves and tumultuous moments.  From this distance, the water appears to be completely at peace.  The further the distance, the more peaceful the water appears.

To me, this image is all about perspective.  When difficult things are fresh and up close to me, the waves seem greater than those in which I’m able to distance myself.  When I have time to ponder, to heal, or to work things out, the difficult times are pushed away and become smooth.  This may be done through physically distancing myself from the situation at times, or by allowing time and realistic thinking to smooth out my reactions.  Over distance and time, moments of difficulty in life can be displaced by the broader perspective of peace which overlays our lives.  Negative self-talk dissipates, worst-case scenario thinking dissolves, and the warring sides within me come to peace.  When I’m able to broaden my perspective, I’m able to find peace.

Some may live in one photo more than the other ones.  Many are blessed to live in the first image most of their lives, while others find themselves tossed about in the second photo for much of theirs.  Every experience, much like every wave, can be different and beautiful and scary and peaceful and heartbreaking and joyous.  But, especially if we buoy each other, the size or intensity of the waves won’t crush us.  We can all find peace on the horizon.

Finding Peace by Knowing Who You Are

I used to be a dreamer. I had so many dreams when I was in high school—dreams that couldn’t happen where I was. I couldn’t wait to graduate and move away to college because that is where my dreams were going to come true. So I moved away to college and expected all the things that couldn’t happen before to happen. I expected the people to be different. I expected my dreams to come true. But they didn’t. None of the things I had planned, expected or dreamed happened. And I became extremely depressed. So depressed that I decided to take a semester off and move back home.

I remember there was this one day, as I was trying to figure things out, that I finally realized it wasn’t the place, it was me. I just needed to change my perspective and my attitude. So I resolved to go back to the same college with no expectations other than to have fun and be happy. And you know what? That’s exactly what I did. I had fun, and I was happy—very happy!

I recently found this quote by Eckhart Tolle in his book Stillness Speaks that says, “You find peace not by rearranging the circumstances of your life, but by realizing who you are at the deepest level.” Sometimes we think changing our circumstances, like I did with moving, is what will bring us the happiness we’ve been wanting for so long. We think that is what will make all our dreams come true, but I have found that the greatest peace and happiness you can have is by understanding who you truly are and acting according to that—and you can do that no matter where you are.

The Unknown, The Unexpected

Life is full of unknowns, the unexpected. Sometimes those unknowns and unexpected things are good, sometimes they’re bad, sometimes they’re exciting and sometimes they’re scary. I had one of those scary experiences recently—when I found out I might have cancer. It was probably the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced—especially since my mind automatically started playing out the worst-case scenario over and over in my head. I kept seeing the doctor telling me I only had so long to live. Waiting to go back to the doctor, waiting for the biopsy, waiting for the results of the biopsy was agonizing. Excruciating. It was so hard to focus, so hard to be present. I kept obsessing about how I would tell my kids, what I would want my ex to know with raising the kids on his own. I couldn’t stop wondering how it would affect my relationship with my boyfriend—a man I love, want to marry and spend the rest of my life with—a life that could be cut short. There were times the fear and panic took over, and I’d find myself sobbing on the floor, feeling so alone. But there were also times of incredible peace and comfort as I chose to turn to my Father in Heaven and my Savior, Jesus Christ. That is a huge part of how I have survived mental illness for so many years. As difficult as mental illness is, as much as I wish I could just be completely free of it, I’m also grateful for what it has taught me and how it has prepared me for other hard things in life.

Some people ask, “Why?” when hit with one of those hard, difficult unknowns. Anytime I hear someone ask, “Why me?” or, “Why them?” I ask, “Why not you? Why not them? What makes you so special that you shouldn’t have to suffer the way everyone else does. Because everyone suffers.” It’s true. Every single person in this world suffers and struggles, and who are we to say that our suffering or our struggles are greater than someone else’s? During my own time of uncertainty I never asked why. Instead I turned to another lesson learned from living with mental illness. I told myself to look for the things I could learn from this. And beyond that, I told myself that if I did have cancer I was going to make sure my kids saw the beauty in life, the things to be grateful for. I would want them to learn from the experience, to grow, to discover how it could help them rather than ask why or blame God.

As scary and agonizing as it was to wait and wonder it was even more relieving and exciting to find out the biopsy came back negative—to find out I didn’t have cancer. But I’ve been trying to keep those lessons and moments of peace I had with me. Sometimes it’s hard. Everyday life can get so busy and distracting. That’s one reason I write—to remember. To look back and remember what I’ve learned. To look back and remember what to be grateful for. To look back and remember the hard times, but also the beautiful ones.

Silence

I hate silence. I suppose you could say it’s ironic considering that’s what my name means. I could have written so many things this last week. I had all this time because my kids spent most of the week at their dad’s. But the silence was too oppressive. It felt like a weight pressing into my chest, slowly getting heavier and heavier, about to crush my sternum at any second. So I’d watch TV or turn on loud music to distract myself from the lack of noise, from the fact that I was alone . . . feeling so lonely and empty. I thought about writing, but I couldn’t do it. Even now, I want to keep typing. Any time the click of the keys stops the silence threatens to suffocate me.

There have been many times in church I’ve heard people talk about the necessity of silence, of finding time to block out all the noise and listen for the whisperings of the Spirit. This doesn’t work for me. The Spirit doesn’t speak to me in the silence of my room. Obsessive thoughts come in the silence—that’s why I hate it. Without any noise, my mind can’t help but run over all those worst-case-scenarios I sometimes fear or replay all of my obsessive thoughts that threaten to consume me. So I can’t be one of those people who goes into my room to escape the noise. I need the noise.

Nature is a place that brings me comfort, peace, the ability to tune in to the Spirit. It is quiet in nature, but rarely ever silent. This afternoon I drove out to Antelope Island, on the Great Salt Lake, and experienced one of these needed moments of solitude where I, yet, didn’t feel alone. It was quiet, but not silent. A father spoke to his children, tall grasses rustled in the breeze, a hawk called to another. Distraction was lifted from my mind, loneliness forgotten.

Music is a necessity in my life. I have found answers to many prayers through music. I have felt peace, comfort, understanding—the Spirit—through music. The most spiritual and personally sacred experience of my life happened one day while I was out in Nature listening to a song by Live. It is an experience seared into my memory and my heart, one so personal I have only shared it with a couple of people.

Some people crave the silence. For some it is useful, helpful, needed. I am not one of those people. I will take the quiet stillness of nature, but I will also take the loud beating of drums and the chatter of my children.