Always Have Hope

"And it came to pass that I beheld others pressing forward, and they came forth and caught hold of the end of the rod of iron; and they did press forward through the mist of darkness, clinging to the rod of iron, even until they did come forth and partake of the fruit of the tree" (1 Nephi 8:24)

It's incredible what depression can take from you. It can take your self esteem, your appetite, your trust, your connection to the Spirit, and any other emotions besides. But I know for certain that it can't take everything forever.

These past few weeks, I have found myself falling into a spiral. Things seemed more gray, and every emotion was faded. I haven't been really hungry for maybe a month. My anxiety was through the roof- there were times I couldn't talk it down, when the dark thoughts came so hard and so quickly that I had no defense against them. In this time, I turned outwards for help. That was only a temporary solution, but it was the only solution I had.

I still studied my scriptures, but found little light. I went through all the motions of friendship, but struggled to love. I tried spending time with others but found myself exhausted, wishing only to be alone. Trying to get out of bed became more and more difficult. But I noticed none of this. It was so gradual, and didn't feel odd at all- that's the thing about having a mental illness- if it's all in your head, it's much harder to recognize. It becomes easy to assume that perhaps God has abandoned me, that I have sinned some great sin and must pay penance (which, for the record, is not how God works).

Then, this week, I have discovered peace again. I had new roommates move in, and our apartment is more comfortable than it has been all summer. It actually feels like home. There is light, there is space, and I can breathe. I have felt more relaxed. I can feel happiness again. This morning I felt so much gratitude for the life I have been blessed with, for the support I've been given, and how things consistently fall into place exactly how they're supposed to be. Yesterday and today I felt as if I received spiritual light and revelation during my scripture study- something that gets to be a struggle when I'm in a bad place. I felt the Spirit so strongly, a reminder that God is still there. My Savior knows me, and has never left me.

But again, all of this has been so gradual that I didn't really recognize what was happening- until last night, I was having dinner with my boyfriend, and for the first time in a while, I ate a lot of food, and he pointed it out (side note: He's always making sure I eat, even when I don't feel that hungry). That, in turn, sparked the realization for me that I felt better, happier, more vibrant, motivated to do what needed done, and perhaps even more. That I felt like myself, for the first time in a while.

So the point of all of this is, I suppose, to always have hope. The darkness always subsides. The sun always returns. The Spirit is always there, even if it is hard to hear. I have learned that, no matter how dark the way, as long as I cling to my Savior, to the iron rod, to my friends and family, and desperately, so desperately, to hope, that everything works out, and eventually I will feel like myself again.

8/2/17

Sometimes I know what causes the anxiety. Other times it hits with no warning. Or with so little warning that I disregarded it. This week I noticed an increase in apathy, but seeing as it was apathy, I ignored it. It's hard to observe one's own emotions. I thought, oh just stress, just being tired, etc. But this morning, the rest of it hit me like a brick wall.

Anxiety. Not enough. Not good enough. Too much to do. Too much stress. How are you supposed to have friends, a relationship, a job, and still take care of yourself and serve others? How are you not strong enough to do all of that? I know all of this is wrong. I am on day two of my job. I am helping someone by babysitting tonight. I miss my boyfriend, but it's only been one day. He's not going to leave me over that.

Depression. Never enough. Never good enough. Don't turn to anyone. Don't reach out. Don't tell them. They don't care anyway. I know, rationally, that people care, but when your brain convinces you to fear them, to hide, it's hard to say no. In the middle of the day, people are busy. They're at work, or living life. How dare I interrupt with my little problem? It doesn't even have a reason behind it.

This past week has been like living a dream. It has been incredible. Now I'm getting the backlash. I'm still figuring out the balance of how much I can do before overloading myself. Right now, it is taking everything I have to force myself to eat breakfast and go to work instead of just going back to sleep. It is taking everything I have to not dig my fingernails into my skin in an effort to let all of this energy out. I feel like a shaken soda bottle, about to explode from the pressure. It beats on every  inch of my skin. Writing this is rebellion against my own mind, an effort to reach out, but in a way that doesn't inconvenience anybody. A small rebellion, but better than giving in.

I am trying.

I showered today. I brushed my hair. I got out of bed on time. I am ready for work physically, if not mentally. I cried a little, then got up, washed my face, and kept moving. This is progress.

The anxiety is at the same levels, but I am stronger. It is not as crippling.

But I worry- am I numbing? Am I simply shoving my emotions down under the surface out of sight? That's what got me through high school- I just didn't let myself feel anything, because if I did, it would cripple me. Training myself out of that is hard.

I will go to work today. I will make it through today. I will talk to someone. And I will go to bed early. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow I will be stronger. I can do this.