A God Shaped Hole.

It's like she has died.

But she is not separate from me. I do not know where she starts and I end. She has become the twin attached to me. I depended on her to make me whole. My self concept and self esteem was defined by her. I was content when she was here and I had her approval. And now that there is this empty space, my anxiety is rising. I feel this intense need to fix it, to patch the hole in me, to salvage what might be left. This loneliness pervades my soul. I live in a shadow.

The distance is eye opening. The past six weeks have been operation after operation of surgically removing every trace of her from me. Without any anesthesia. Without any narcotics. Slowly, meticulously, and I'd like to say, carefully. They tear flesh from flesh, muscle from muscle, bone from bone. I know it's better to be cautious, but part of me wishes they'd just rip this bandaid off and get it over with. I am tender to the touch. I am bruised and sore. I am broken.

It started with a God shaped hole. But I did not fill it with God. I sought belonging and safety and found it. I shared too much of my load and I was trusted with hers too. I couldn't tell my own thoughts or emotions from hers. They were just a continuous flow. I mirrored her. Or she mirrored me. But now I am just myself. Just one. Just me. I thought I could build a home inside a person, but I know now that people are not homes.

I am panicked like a lost child.

It comes and goes-- the anxiety. I do not notice when I have fallen asleep. It races toward me like a train out of control. Every time I wake up I feel the train hit me again. As it pummels through me, it slows-- making sure I notice it is present; making sure I struggle. I feel the panic the white rabbit must feel, running late, counting train cars, and waiting for them to pass through my soul. It is excruciating. I am a restless soul. But I remind myself it is just my thoughts and feelings. I can sit with them and I can breathe.

Even my best coping skills cannot calm me. I have depended on her to shush my worries and be the calm one. Praying is all that works. I pray for my friend. I want her to be happy, to find the self she is searching for, to know I care about her. She is going through a Hell of her own, I'm sure. A Hell that in previous circumstances I would do anything and everything to protect her from. I am human, I know now that I cannot keep the people I care about from pain. It has helped me to remember the good things she has taught me, how safe I felt, and how much progress I have made. I am trying to believe that her opinion of me does not matter and that my self concept and esteem can exist without her approval. It is easier to move forward remembering the good. The more gratitude I feel towards her, the less anxiety I feel.

And one day I will heal. And I will fill this God shaped hole with God instead. 

Expecto Patronum

Some days I just cannot.

I cannot get out of bed, or get dressed, or make myself a bowl of oatmeal. Some days I am lucky to get just one of those things done.

I am not the Energizer Bunny; I am human and I get run down and warn out and spread thin.

I think sometimes people look at others and see their Pinterest Perfect lives and Instagram worthy photographs and think these people have all their shiz together. It ain't a fairytale, that's for dang sure.

Depression is ruthless; Even with the right medication. Even with a great support system. Even when you're doing a really fantastic job at caring for yourself and balancing multiple aspects of your life. Even when you're doing everything right.

I have known this darkness for years now. But it wasn't until recently that I accepted that I could not face it on my own. I've found the right combination of medication after much trial and error. I have found a God send of a therapist who has worked wonders with my stubborn and prideful self. But even still, the darkness comes around. I know how it moves, what it clings to, what it flees from. I've learned but I'm still learning. 
Gosh, there's still so much to learn.

Sometimes it just shows up uninvited and makes itself at home, wrapped around my shoulders. It's heavy, but it's a familiar heavy that blends in so well. Sometimes I don't even realize it has taken residence for days. And then the weight hits, hard and heavy and I end up how I did this morning. It stays well past its welcome, because it was never welcome to begin with. It's not so simple to send it on its "merry" way. Funny to think you could send a darkness like depression on its merry way. Ha. It's not like flipping a light switch on or off. It's changing all the time; clinging to this dark corner, fleeing from one enlightened one. There are always more corners to shed light on. It's a process. There is always progress.

Today I woke up and couldn't move.

I wasn't paralyzed. My body was physically fine.

Mentally, I was drowning. My limbs were lead. My head was deep under water.

I knew I needed to move. I told myself to move. But it took all my energy to do it.

I tried to stand up and slumped to the floor like clay off the pottery wheel.

Sludge.

It was like my body turned into a slug and I was lying there wondering where the hell I had got a hold of polyjuice potion. It wasn't graceful, but it wasn't a bloody mess either. I'm not sure the floor was much more comforting than my bed. It wasn't a carpet or a rug. It was just the cheap linoleum that looks like wood and hides dirt fairly well. Well, it hides it well until you think you've found solace with your cheek on a cold, hard wood floor that isn't clean. Then it doesn't hide anything so well. I wanted it to be comforting, but I am numb. I wanted the cold floor to heal my aching and hollow soul like an ice pack healed my childish bumps and bruises. I stared blankly at the baseboards across the room like a gas gauge on empty. In that moment, there was nothing and no one that could lift this weight from me. It just "demanded to be felt" like feelings so honestly do. I wanted someone or something to wrap its arms around me and tell me that it's okay to feel like this, and that it will get better. I know it's supposed to get better. It has to.

But I feel so ashamed.

The darkness creeps in and tells me I'm nothing. I'm worthless. I'm broken. I'm weak. I'm defective. I'm unloveable. I'm unwanted. I'm alone.

It taunts me and laughs when I question if there is really a single soul that cares.

It screams "Stay down. You've already lost."

It's easy to believe, when there's an elephant sitting on your chest.

In an LDS Conferemce talk, Jeffrey R Holland stated the following:

"In striving for some peace and understanding in these difficult matters, it is crucial to remember that we are living—and chose to live—in a fallen world where for divine purposes our pursuit of godliness will be tested and tried again and again. Of greatest assurance in God’s plan is that a Savior was promised, a Redeemer, who through our faith in Him would lift us triumphantly over those tests and trials, even though the cost to do so would be unfathomable for both the Father who sent Him and the Son who came. It is only an appreciation of this divine love that will make our own lesser suffering first bearable, then understandable, and finally redemptive."

"So how do you best respond when mental or emotional challenges confront you or those you love? Above all, never lose faith in your Father in Heaven, who loves you more than you can comprehend. As President Monson said ... : “That love never changes. … It is there for you when you are sad or happy, discouraged or hopeful. God’s love is there for you whether or not you feel you deserve [it]. It is simply always there.” Never, ever doubt that, and never harden your heart. Faithfully pursue the time-tested devotional practices that bring the Spirit of the Lord into your life. Seek the counsel of those who hold keys for your spiritual well-being. Ask for and cherish priesthood blessings. Take the sacrament every week, and hold fast to the perfecting promises of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Believe in miracles. I have seen so many of them come when every other indication would say that hope was lost. Hope is never lost. If those miracles do not come soon or fully or seemingly at all, remember the Savior’s own anguished example: if the bitter cup does not pass, drink it and be strong, trusting in happier days ahead."

(You can read the whole address here)

There will be good days, and there will be days when I question my sanity. It's something I'll learn to manage and something, that one day, I hope to overcome. Even when I'm feeling depressed, God's love can still reach me. When I think I'm alone, I can be assured that I am not without Heaven's help. I am grateful for the atonement of Jesus Christ and for the peace and reassurance I can receive when I pray. I love the power in prayer. I know that the Lord hears our prayers and that He answers them. He may not always answer them how we think He ought to, but He will answer them in His own time, in His own way. I'm grateful for the blessings He grants me and for the people He places in my life. He is so patient with me. I know there are mountains to climb, but I'm so glad I'm climbing with Him.

*Depression affects 1 in 10 Americans and is more prevalent than you might realize. It is not something to be ashamed of. If you or someone you know is struggling with depression, visit the Bring Change 2 Mind website for resources made available to you. If you or someone you know are in crisis, please visit Lifeline or call 1-800-273- TALK. The hotline is available 24/7 and is confidential. If you'd like to learn more about what Mormons believe, visit LDS.org.

Tender Mercies Part Nine

Love At First Sight

My girl, Patience, knew how much I wanted a turquoise bookcase so all my beloved books could have a home of their own (they currently live in boxes since the move). I introduced her to a store called Nadeau, and I've frequented the store the past two months, intent on purchasing the perfect bookcase. Shipment after shipment came-- but still, no sign of my inquiry. Well, when I returned from my much needed vacation, I was informed by a little bird that there was a bookcase calling my name. I drove to the store eager to see for myself and when I saw her, my soul could not part with her. She has since been adopted.

Thank goodness for thoughtful friends who love Nadeau as much as me. 

Coral Speaks

Did you know coral makes a popping sound? I snorkeled today and it was like the ocean was breathing-- a whole new world on the ocean floor and it made my heart so happy. 

Airport Thoughts

Traveling is one of my favorite things because it's a time where I can be quiet and contemplative. It makes me happy to get to the airport a little early and browse the book stands just in case I finish my own books, or I decide one of their books could be too much a part of my soul to part with. Books end up becoming dear friends, and I don't feel quite so alone.

Although I must say being alone suits me. There is no need to justify or compare. It's just me in my head-- which could be all sorts of hell, but sometimes if I'm lucky, it's not so hellish and is more like a chance to breathe. Although anxiety doesn't let me exist still and quiet for long, some of the times I'm most at peace are when I can just be quiet and bury myself in my books or stare out a window at the parts of the world I just pass by and never experience.

It sounds sad.

But it's not really. It's comforting being alone. No one can hurt you. No one can love you either.

I'm sure there's a balance in there somewhere and I'm just cleverly hopping from one end of the seesaw to the other. I'm a work in progress. I'll get there.

Sometimes I think about quitting my job to become a dish washer and dog trainer.
Today is one of those days.
It's one of those weeks, actually.
Sometimes I don't know why I chose to be a nurse, because it's nothing like I thought it'd be.