Where Do I Belong?

Right now I feel kind of like a teenager. I'm trying hard to figure out where exactly I fit in this world. Unlike most teenagers I know exactly who I am. The problem is figuring out where this "me" belongs. 

I mostly live in two worlds--school and church. In each of these environments I have thing that define me. I have roles to play and I am accepted. I love my life in these places but in both of them I feel a disconnect. They also don't overlap almost at all. I am living two separate lives and I'm not sure I belong in either of them.

Let's start with school, it's a bit simpler. 

I go to the local community college. It has been a fantastic experience and I expect it will continue to be so. More important than any of the classes I've taken is the knowledge I've gained about myself and my capabilities. I've learned I can work hard an by doing so I can achieve a lot. For the first time in my life I received a 4.0! My average grade point average is a 3.8. I'm on the Dean's List. I'm in the honors program and I just barely became the president of my campus' chapter of Phi Theta Kappa--the international honors society of community colleges. I'm pretty sure my name could be placed next to the definition of success--at least when it comes to school.

I'm also surrounded by a lot of friends and I'm well liked. To my knowledge people don't go around complaining about me. I go to school and get my social fix. I think I'd go nuts if I didn't have school/friends at school.

Yet I still feel disconnected. I think a lot of it has to do with my age and circumstances in life. Let's be honest, it's a community college. The large majority of students who attend just got out if high school. Most if the rest are coming back in mid-life to try and better themselves. There are almost no students my age. I'm 25 and I hang out with 18-20 year olds. None of them are married. I love my friends--I have so much fun with them--but sometimes when they talk about their lives I feel like a complete outsider. I don't live in that world anymore. And sometimes I don't feel like I can share a lot of the core things that make me, well, me. Especially when it comes to my married life. They just won't understand. So even though I have a place and am happy I don't quite feel like I belong.

Then there's church. Again, I love it--and not just the religion part (though obviously that's most important to me). I am a primary teacher--currently teaching 6-7 year olds the basics of the New Testament. I am also the ward (congregation) choir director, a position I am not qualified for at all, but one I absolutely love! Even thinking about it makes me happy. Music is such a core part of me and (almost) every week I get to be involved in the creation of it. When it comes to church, I definitely have my place.

Through my church I have a social life. I don't know as many people as I'd like--after all I spend 2/3 of my time at church with a bunch of 6 & 7 year olds. Relief Society (the women's organization) provides opportunities to get to know the women in my ward. And choir has helped me make friends. I honestly think one of the reasons I love choir so much is the social aspect. I get to interact with people and it's a lot of fun. 

Once more, however, I just don't quite fit. I'm not the same age as almost any of the other women. The majority of them are in their 30's with children of varying ages. While we regularly have new babies, they are generally the second or third or fourth or even more! When the women get together they talk about their kids. Moms can't help it. I completely understand and I know I will do the same when I have my own kids. But as a married women without kids, I end up not talking--just being in the sideline listening. It was less awkward when I was the youngest married woman in the ward but now I'm not. There are a couple others my age-ish. Of course they already have kids already or are now pregnant/trying to get pregnant. And I'm not there yet. Even though I've been married for almost 4 years I'm not there. Most of the time none of this matters but every once in a while it does matter and I feel completely alone.

With neither of these worlds overlapping I can't just take the bits of each that I love and mesh it into one solid environment. Instead I'm jumping back and forth between two places I love but don't quite belong in. 

Which brings me back to my original question: where do I belong? 

I'm sure I'm not the only (non teenager) person trying to figure this out yet I can't help but feel alone as I ponder like this. Being in the middle ground in 2 different places and trying to balance both of these places at the same time feels very lonely at times.

The good news is I love the worlds I live in and so as I sort through my belonging issues I will have places to thrive. Best of all, even though I don't feel like I quite fit,  I get to learn how to be the best primary teacher-honors student-choir director-phi theta kappa president my ward and school have ever seen.

An Inside View of Generalized Anxiety and Bipolar Disorder

Today is the last day of Mental Health Awareness Week. All week I've been reading a lot of posts about different mental illnesses and their effect on people. I figured I was content with my one frustrated statement on Facebook but it turns out I was wrong.

Today I've been struggling with some pretty severe anxiety. This isn't the "I'm having anxiety" most people think of. It's not even like some people who have anxiety targeted to specific things, such as agoraphobia. It's anxiety for absolutely no reason whatsoever that is overwhelming me. I just want to climb back in bed and go to sleep. It's not that I don't have motivation to do things. It's not exactly fearing anything. I just feel paralyzed within myself.

I took some medicine so hopefully it'll calm down.

But it sucks. On days like today I have to take extra medicine just so I can function at all. I have homework to do. I have a primary lesson to prepare. I have to pick out more Christmas songs for choir. None of these are pressing but I intended to do them today. I also was hoping to clean the bathroom. These things aren't happening now. Even after the medicine kicks in I will no longer have time to do most of them. Anxiety has crippled my day. 

I'm lucky. I don't have this kind of anxiety every day. I probably would have it a whole lot more if I weren't on mood stabilizing medicine. Before I was pulled off my antidepressant I experienced it even less. Antidepressants often double as anti-anxiety medicine but they can create cycling for people with bipolar disorder so I was taken off mine. This change has helped me become more balanced but my anxiety has increased.

This leaves me with a question: Which is worse, experiencing more mood swings or periodically dealing with crippling anxiety? 

If I didn't know what it's like to be bipolar I'd totally choose to have the mood swings over the anxiety. Anxiety sucks. But being bipolar I see mood swings in a different way light.

I've found that as I talk with people about being bipolar they don't get it. Because I have a "milder" case (in other words I don't go into a full mania) and an inherently optimistic and logical personality people often don't realize there is something wrong. When I talk about mood swings they think "oh, I have those too." And they're right. A man with bipolar disorder once wrote that all people experience mood swings. The difference is their mood swings are just not as drastic and destructive as bipolar mood swings. He is 100% dead on.

A good comparison is literally swinging. Our lives are like being on a swing set. As we swing, everyone goes up and down. Some people go higher up. Some swings are lower. Some jokingly twist as they go because it's fun but eventually they straighten out because it's lost it's appeal. Life is a bunch of ups and downs. That's normal.

Being bipolar is like twisting around wildly and going super high at the same time. 

And you can't stop.

It may seem fun at first but you can't quit twisting. Not when you're dizzy or sick or anything else. You just keep going. Highs and lows repeating themselves over and over while you swing wildly around. There are only two ways to stop the out of control swinging: jumping off (suicide) or with someone stepping in and straightening out your swing (medicine is generally involved in this). 

People who are bipolar all swing at different speeds. The amount of twisting varies as well. How high/low they go can be starkly different. Again, I'm lucky. I have never had a full mania. I don't swing almost-flipping-over-the-top high. I'm incredibly grateful for that. Manias may feel fun while in them, but they are very destructive. I don't know exactly what it feels like to have a more volatile version of bipolar disorder. All I've ever experienced is my own and mine sucks. Props to those who deal with worse. Really. I respect you. A lot.

I experience Bipolar NOS. I often experience rapid cycling and sometimes my moods can switch within minutes. On medicine this doesn't really happen. There are definitely mood shifts, but it's a lot like the basic swinging with only minor twisting here or there. I go up and down with everyone else. Unless I don't take my medicine. Or I mess up my schedule. Or I spend several hours in an intense/exciting situation and don't balance it with down time. Or I don't eat well. Or I have a lot of stressful things going on. Etc.

If I take my medicine the other things I do/don't do have a minor impact. But if I have too many "triggers" at once then my swing does some wild twisting for a while. Nothing like it does without me being on medicine, but the swinging still really messes with me. If I want to keep swinging normally I have to be aware of everything I do. There have been many days that in order to keep myself from swinging out of control again I've had to not do things I want to do or even that I'm supposed to do.

I'm always making hard choices.

Such as whether or not I turn one assignment  in late or have a hard time making it to school for the rest of the week. Leaving a party early or spend an hour upset over stupid things and crying for absolutely no reason. Spend all Sunday afternoon in my bed relaxing/sleeping instead of being with family or emotionally shutting down for a few days.

Some choices are really hard.

What's worse, a twisting swing of mood changes or periodic crippling anxiety?

Do I go on an anti-anxiety medicine that may negatively affect my mood stability or do I keep my medicine the same and have more anxiety?

I'm going to be bipolar and deal with anxiety for the rest of my life. These things don't magically disappear. The severity may change, but there are going to be pieces of these disorders in my life until I die. I guess somewhere in the next 70 (give or take 10) years I'm going to figure this all out. Until then it's going to be a bunch of hard choices. Sounds vaguely like how the rest of life works...

Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Bipolar Disorder are two facets of who I am but they are not all of who I am. All in all I have a good life. Thanks to medicine I have mostly balanced moods and days like today aren't an everyday experience. I have a lot of people who love me. I have God in my corner. I'm not alone and I know that when my swing starts spinning out of control I have countless people ready to step in and help balance me out. I truly get more than I give.

For people with bipolar disorders, support makes all the difference. Thank you for supporting me.

Different And Still Equal

Right now there is a lot of...contention...revolving around women who believe they should be ordained to the priesthood the same way men are. I have to admit it bugs me. I'd like to say it doesn't, but it does. Based on current revelation there is absolutely no indication that women are to have the priesthood outside of temple covenants (I'm not going into that here--there are plenty of other places you can read/discuss that). There are some statements by church leaders about women not having the priesthood. These leaders have been clear that women not having the priesthood isn't because women are less valued than men. It's definitely not because women aren't good enough, strong enough, etc. There are women who would honor and use the priesthood better and wiser than many men. Some in the church today are asking, if all this is true, then why don't women get the priesthood too?

Maybe it's just because we're different.

One of the things I look forward to life most is having the opportunity to be pregnant. I get it it, the whole puking, cramping, etc. bit sucks. No, I'm not looking forward to that. But the awe of having a baby grow inside of me, of feeling it move for the first time, of having it kick me (and then complaining because it kicks too hard and/or in the wrong places), and finally the day I give birth to the baby and hold it in my arms. I know I will look at it and feel a sense of wonder. My body just grew a baby. I had been given the opportunity of bringing a precious son or daughter of God into the world.

I'm practical. I understand there is a chance this will never happen for me. Things happen. I have a mortal body that I can't control. Yet I dream of carrying my own baby with everything inside of me. (Literally as well as figuratively. What do you think periods are?) While there are some who do not have this experience, the large majority of women do get to have this opportunity. It is something unique and special only women get to experience.

Why is that a big deal? It's just the way it works, right? The simple answer is men don't get that opportunity.

In society we, especially women, joke that men couldn't handle childbirth. To back us up there are those funny videos where men get to experience "contractions" and they freak out, but those videos are not fair. The bodies of women giving birth have had an entire pregnancy to prep for that moment--including "minor" contractions for the last trimester or so (note the use of " "). During the actual birth our bodies release hormones to help. Men experiencing intense contractions made by an electrical stimulus don't have any of those things to help them. Frankly, our body is made to have a baby and theirs is not. It doesn't matter how much pain men can tolerate. It doesn't matter what they want. They cannot have a baby even though many of them would have more patience and complain less than many women during pregnancy. It's just not the way it works.

A little boy I love very much (who is no longer such a little boy) once went to his mom frustrated. "Why don't I get to have a baby?" He didn't mean being a dad. He meant being pregnant and having the baby. You can say he said it in the naivety of youth and you're right. He was little and naive, but who is to say some men don't wish they could experience the awe of childbirth themselves?

You may be asking how this relates to the theme of this post. It has to do with his mom's response. She said:  "Only women get to have babies but when you grow up you get to have the priesthood." The boy perked up. There was something special he could do too.

The honest truth is the priesthood is the only thing men have that women don't have too. That's what bugs a lot of women. Some see it as women being less than men. Some see it as a division that separates the genders. Some see it as simply not fair.  I'm sure there are lots of reasons why people disagree with the way things are, with the idea that only men have the priesthood. I see it differently. I see it the way this mom did. Just as women have things that are unique to them, men have something unique of their own. Even if I can't have a baby it is still something special that only women can experience. There are men who don't get the priesthood but it is still something special that only men can have. Men deserve to have something of their own as much as women do.

I'm not saying God can't or won't give women the priesthood. If the prophet were to announce in general conference on Saturday that women were to be ordained to the priesthood I wouldn't freak out. I just don't see it happening. Based on my understanding of the revelation of modern day prophets it seems just as God designed men and women to function differently physically, He gaves us different roles for life. Regardless of these different roles, men and women are equal.

If you're struggling with the idea that different can mean equal here's an empirical example: You can make the number 10 six different ways using only the numbers 1-9 (no decimals/fractions).  10 is 10 regardless if you use 5 x 2 or 7 + 3. The process of solving the problem is different. The numbers are different. But they both equal 10. Different does not mean they're not equal.

 My husband has the priesthood. I don't. Try telling either of us that we're not as important as the other and we'll both laugh.

We're different, but Chris and I are equal.

Tact and Time Don't Fix Everything

There are times in life where I just have to bite my tongue, to hold back everything you want to say because it's the right thing to do. Sure, I'd feel better if I belted out my feelings, at least in the short run, but what would I gain? Hurting someone else doesn't seem worth me getting my two cents in. Most of the time whatever was so important in the moment fades away when I'm no longer in the situation. Sometimes, however, it lingers and I find myself unsure what I should do.

There are a few things that have happened recently that have been eating at me a little bit. I brush them aside, but they come back over and over again. I've been holding them in because I'm not sure anything would be gained by me sharing my feelings with the persons involved. I know feelings would be hurt and I can't justify that unless I have a dang good reason.

One of the situations is something I probably should address with the parties involved. I have to be tactful or I could damage relationships that I've been carefully building. I've been holding it in just in case I think it's not important enough to mention. But it is. My emotions are involved, but not to the point that if I didn't mention it I would be significantly hurt. It's taken me several months to decide I should talk about it and I've spent the last couple weeks trying to figure out how. I think I'm almost ready. It will be nice to get it out.

Another one is highly emotional. Everything in me is riled up. Someone I care about posted about a situation that involves me and many other people I know. Reading this post caused my emotions to start tearing at me. I wanted to throw my computer across the room I was so upset. I want to write a tart response to the post, to challenge them on most of their "points" and tell them a lot of the parts they glossed over completely change how things play out and that the way they did this is offensive to many of us involved in the situation. I feel ready to explode. Yet this is the one I can't say anything about beyond what I just wrote. If I were to say any of what I'm feeling, and I mean even the smallest bit, to the person who posted, or even the other people involved in the situation, I could be permanently damaging relationships and cause more pain and frustration that the original post. So I have to hold it all in.

I'm not good at this. Rather, I'm too good at this. I've spent much of my life locked up. I've held things back and bottled them in until my walls burst and my bottles exploded. I faked a smile when I was seriously depressed. I've lied to my friends, my family, my teachers, etc. about what's really going on in my life and how I feel about it. And it sucks. In high school I started to realize how detrimental this was to me. I began pulling walls down. I've gotten to the point where I'm fairly transparent, or at least I'm open. What you can't see generally isn't hard to reach. When I have to hold things in like I do with this, I feel compelled to respond the way I used to. I want to stuff it in a bottle, shove the bottle in the darkest corner of my mind, and keep it there, under pressure, as long as possible.Obviously that is not a healthy pattern. Most of the time, things down't have to be held so tightly, but this time, this time I can't share it with anyone (except my husband, but that's just how my marriage works).

It's funny how with the less emotional case I can find a solution. I still feel emotionally involved, but it's tame. With a little bit of time and tact I can solve the problem.

With the more emotional situation I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. I need to protect the emotions of all involved but that leaves me with holding onto the emotions I have. No amount of tact can butter up this situation to everyone's liking and I don't see time helping either. It's one of those things that's likely to be emotionally charged for years. I could see it not being resolved until the next life.

I have to find a solution, that is obvious. I'm not willing to throw a wrench in my relationships with those people and potentially damage ones they share with each other. No one gains there. I also can't hold onto it until it explodes.

This is one of those times I wish I could ask my mom for advice.

A Flower for My Husband

I love flowers--real ones. Fake ones are alright, especially in bright colors, but I don't love them the way I love real flowers. Live ones, ones in vases, ones pressed in books--flowers make me happy. I think they are the only thing (as in objects) I love more than books.

My love for flowers started as a little kid. In the spring and early summer my mom would be outside weeding and taking care of the flower beds. I have many memories of helping her or watching her, running around in the warm evening air. These are some of my best childhood memories.

My mom's mom, my grandma, died when I was really little and my only solid connection with her was flowers. Mom would have us kids pick a bunch of flowers from the yard, we'd arrange them and put them on Grandma's grave every Mother's Day and Memorial Day. It was from these trips and conversations with my mom out working in the flower beds I learned my grandma's favorite flowers were irises.

Every year on my birthday, from the time I was 12 until my 16th birthday I received a rose on my birthday. On my 16th birthday it was a bouquet. I still have no idea who sent them. My guess is--maybe--one of my sisters. Those flowers made me feel incredibly special. Someone thought about me and remembered my birthday every year. As a teenager that helped a lot.

When I was in 9th grade one of my friends bought me an orange daisy. It was one of the most thoughtful presents anyone has given me. He remembered a conversation from months before where I said I'd rather have a daisy than a rose, and then he got one in my favorite color. It bolstered my belief that I was special, I was worth time and energy. My friend (we're still friends) will never understand how that one flower impacted my life. Just like then, I still prefer daisies and had orange, yellow, red, and white ones at my wedding.

When my mom was dying I realized I didn't know her favorite flower. No one I talked to did either. So one day, as i was helping her I asked her. In pain she responded "Pink roses. The kind that smell good". I went and bought her one a few days later. She had it on the nightstand next to her until it withered.

All of these have added to my love of flowers. Flowers make me happy. My top love language is gifts, so being given flowers is one of the ways I feel most loved.

Chris doesn't get the flower thing. He never has. We've been married for almost 3 years, dating for 4, and I can count the times he's given me flowers on one hand. I've tried to hint. I've openly told him. I've reiterated how much I want them. I even told him once that's all I wanted for my birthday. He just doesn't get it meaning i don't get them. It doesn't make me angry, but it's a little frustrating and I always am a bit disappointed when a big event rolls around and I didn't get flowers.

This year, because of this challenge, and because of the things that inspired this challenge, I'm looking at life differently. Since I didn't get any flowers Tuesday I knew I wouldn't be getting this Valentine's (Remember Tuesday is mine and Chris's day). I had 2 choices: feel bad that Chris didn't get me any or find a way to turn the situation into something positive.

At school they were selling Valentine's day stuff. I bought a rose and a small box of chocolate, came home and gave them to Chris. He didn't know what to do at first. I think he thought I was teasing him about not buying me any. But I just left him with it and started to unpack from the day. Chris said he didn't know what to do with it. I told him to put it in a vase and then proceeded to tell him how to cut the stem, etc. The rose is now sitting on our dresser.

I didn't do it as a hint. I did it because flowers make me happy and I love Chris and gifts are one of the ways I tell people I love them. Combine the 2 and I gave Chris a rose to tell him I love him and to make him happy. It wasn't about me at all.

The best part is I don't feel sad about not getting flowers. Giving them is just as good, if not better.

Day 13...maybe. Beginnings.

I think it's technically day 12, but I'm not sure so I'm going to base it off the date from now on, even if I'm wrong.

Anyway, today has been a very eventful non-eventful day. It was supposed to be me sitting at school, coming home and studying, and attempting to fit everything else in between. Those things all happened, but that's not all that happened.

Today my not-so-baby nephew turned 16. For him, this is a new beginning: driving, dating, more church responsibility, and a sense of excitement about life. I'm a little jealous of the excitement that age offers and not at all jealous of the whole teenage part. I want that excitement without giving up all the great stuff I have now.

Of course I was either hypomanic or depressed the entire year I was 16, so I may be assuming his excitement is higher than it actually is, and should honestly stay away from it. Who knew there is a thing such as too much happy??

Thinking of my bipolar, today in grateful for the beginnings I have in my life. I am balanced, just the right amount of happy, and honestly content for the first time in my memory. With that I have a fresh start with the congregation at church--no past anything to hold me back, no fear that they remember that time when I was hypomanic or depressed and couldn't do something or did something weird. I also have a fresh start at school. I get to be balanced student Cindy. So far it's been great.

To top that off I found out I'm going to have 2 more nieces or nephews this year. Babies are the essence of beginnings.

It's easy to see these types of beginnings. They are obvious. I write them here and you all are able to understand. But there a lot more beginnings we miss.

There are students who I interact with and a beginning of potential friendship exists. There are people whose attitudes change and they have a beginning essentially as a different person. There are the moments when you decide to do something slightly different than you have before, another beginning. Each of these beginnings will either become solid or they will whither away.

My thought tonight and my challenge is to analyze the beginnings all around You. Decide which ones you want to water and which ones you want to whither.

Take this chance, right now, today, to choose to feed the beginnings that allow you to be happier, friendlier, and kinder. Begin to treat yourself better. Begin to allow yourself to dream and go far. Beginnings, if cared for, become life. Make your life the best it can be by beginning to make it so.

Day 12? Happy un-Valentines Day to me.

I've been sick the last couple days and tonight I don't have very much time, but I wanted to write a few words at least.

Overall things are going good. I still have a hard time with the complimenting thing unless I'm around little kids. Or Chris. He gets more compliments than almost any one and 90% of them are from me. Probably closer to 99%.

Which brings me today's post. 4 years ago today Chris and I had the "we're holding hands and hanging out all the time, does that mean we're exclusively dating each other?" Conversation. 3 years ago today he proposed. Today is our Valentine's day. But better because it actually means something.

There has not been a day I have regretted my decision to date him exclusively, and not a day has gone by where I have questioned my decision to marry him. He is the best thing that could have happened to me. The last few years were made millions of times better with him by my side. Everyday I thank God for allowing Chris to be part of my life.

It's not that we have a perfect marriage. We don't. But we both look for the good and either talk about the bad or decide it's not worth worrying about. And we're friends. That's my favorite part. My best friend lives with me and I can turn to him any time, day or night, and he will literally be there for me. What more could a girl ask for?

The reason I'm posting this here is twofold: one, it's the important part of my day today. Two, finding the good and being grateful for strangers, acquaintances, and friends is great, but without treating those you're closest to that way, you're missing the point. Take a good look at how you can improve your relationship with someone you're close to and do it. I will be doing it to--but not with Chris. That one is always getting better without special focus and I have other relationships where I need to improve.

Remember new friends are silver and old ones are gold. Don't let the gold tarnish or get destroyed. Go ahead and add as much silver as you want, but hang onto the gold.