Desperate

 One week in the hospital, and I'm tired and worn down with very little hope or fight left in me. I'm desperate for a solution. Keep praying one comes soon. 

#PuffyEyes

#CantStopCrying

#DepressionSucks

Text From Kyle

 My relationship with Kyle summarized in one text. I'm far from coming home yet, but my love for Kyle grows exponentially each day. He is my greatest blessing.

Hospital Round 2

 I’m in the hospital once again. It has been a long road, and it’s not over yet. I have to quarantine in a room by myself for 4 days. I am starting a new hormone treatment and praying that will help me. I have to hold onto hope that better days are still coming for me.

Big Week

 This next week is a big week for me. On Tuesday I have hormone labs, and I'm hoping they will show what is wrong and that the treatment will help and not make things worse. And then on Friday, I begin EMDR with my counselor to overcome the trauma from everything that has happened that continues to bring so much pain to my heart. 

The truth is, I'm terrified for all of this. It's difficult to put into words exactly what I feel, but the best word I can come up with is overwhelmed. I've never hoped so desperately that something will work for me while also being so afraid to have hope at all. It makes me cry just thinking about it.

Please keep my family and me in your prayers this week. We need whatever faith anyone has to offer. Better days have to be ahead. That's what I'm holding onto.

Lessons Learned

 Five years ago this month, I began to experience drastic swings between depression and anxiety. Five long years. It seems like a lifetime some days, especially recently as I'm still fighting to find stability again. But if there are two important things I've learned in the last five years, it's this:

1) How to say "no" when needed to protect my mental health (and not feel bad about it)

2) How to ask for help

The second one comes with a little story. In July of 2017, my brain had been sick with these mood swings for 9 long, hard months. I came home from an incredibly difficult day at church and cried to Kyle, "It has been 9 months and I still don't know how to handle this." What he replied has stuck with me ever since. He said, "What do you mean you don't know how to handle it? Of course you know how to handle it. You know that you need to ask for help." My whole mindset changed that day. I realized that I didn't have to handle this sometimes debilitating sickness on my own, because I could ask for help. That was how I could get through it.

And that is precisely how I have gotten through the last five years. I've found my people and asked for help when I've needed it. And then when I've gotten back to a place of stability, I have tried to be on the giving end.

I may not be thankful for the struggles I've had with my mental health, but these two lessons feel invaluable to me, and I'm thankful to have been able to learn them.

Overcoming

 Two months ago, I fell and broke.  I still don’t really know why.  That’s the part that scares me the most.  I don’t know how it all happened, so I can’t stop it from happening again.  But now, I’m slowly rising, healing, overcoming, and hoping that everything I’m doing to get back up will allow me to stay far away from where I was before.

Sometimes I stumble on a trigger that unexpectedly takes me back to the painful memories from before I went to the hospital.  But when I feel the panic increasing as I wonder if my heart will feel that pain again, I remember all the tools I’ve picked up in the last two months that make me more capable than I was before, and the anxiety eventually subsides.

--My family and I have grown so much together.  We have learned how to fight this with each other’s help and how to better work as a team.  Kyle Avery has done more than I can possibly write out to help me and our kids get through this time.

--I am seeing an amazing new counselor who specializes in trauma and who is helping me learn how to combat anxiety and triggers.  It’s such an empowering feeling to think that I can overcome anxiety, not be a slave to it.  It’s a long process, but I’m going to get there with her guidance.

--I have anxiety and sleep medications that are helping for now.  I hope to not need them forever, but they are there to help me get by, and I am thankful.

--While in the hospital, I learned about the crisis center.  It’s like a bridge between home and the hospital.  I’ve been able to use that resource twice now, and it has helped me have a reset without having to be admitted.  

--I am surrounded by close friends who have done so much to help me and my kids when Kyle is at work.  I feel great comfort knowing that they are always there and are willing to help if I need it.  I’m not afraid to reach out to them for help or tell how I am really doing.

--I’ve figured out some high calorie options to eat or drink when I am struggling with eating.  This makes such a huge difference when I am able to give my body enough energy so that I’m not adding to the problem by not eating enough.

--Most of all, I started working with a new hormone specialist who will hopefully be able to help this problem long-term.  I have hormone labs coming up on October 12th.  I’m excited and nervous to see what she thinks my body needs to thrive.  

I'm still winning, and I will keep winning using all of these wonderful resources available to me.  Someday, I hope to be able to look back and see just how far I have come.

Where Was God?

 My biggest question in the last 42 days since going to the hospital has been "where was God?" Where was God when a most excruciating and indescribable pain seized my heart and wouldn't let go? Where was God when I cried out for relief and hope, but it seemed those prayers went unheard and unanswered? Where was God when the pain became more than any human should have to bear and continued intensifying until it threatened to take me away from my husband and kids? Where was God when I was searching for any bit of peace and there was none to be found? 

I don't have the answer to these questions, and maybe I never will, but I have to wonder if I've seen glimpses of God in the last 42 days, even though they've been far different than what I imagined or wanted. I desperately wanted God to take away the pain, but instead I think I saw Him in the form of my husband who met me along the side of the road, grabbed my numb hands, and took me to the hospital and has continued to endure this hell with me everyday since. I think I saw Him in the kind nurses and therapists at the hospital who shared their love with me and helped me find glimmers of hope in those incredibly difficult days. I'm pretty sure I've seen Him in the friends who have watched my kids and spent time with me to help me through until things get better. I have felt something of His love through the love of my bishop who has given time to help me keep my faith burning and my young women who hold such a special place in my heart. I've seen Him working through my amazing counselor and the hormone specialist and the people at the crisis center who are helping me find my peace again.

I have to admit that I don't understand why God won't take away this pain and make it all better, but I think maybe He's been here all along.

Our Anniversary

When Kyle and I were married 8 years ago, our sealer recited this poem to us.  I don’t know how he could possibly have known how much we would need this reminder about storms of darkness and beautiful light, but I do know that this poem describes with exactness what it has been like being married to Kyle.  He has re-lit my lamp more times than either of us can count.  He has been here through every episode of intense darkness and has celebrated with me in the times of light.  A lot of things feel uncertain to me right now, but I do know without a doubt that he will always be mine and hold me in his arms, and that brings me comfort and peace.  

I met a stranger in the night,

Whose lamp had ceased to shine;

I paused and let him light

His lamp from mine.

A tempest sprang up later on,

And shook the world about,

And when the wind was gone,

My lamp was out.

But back came to me the stranger—

His lamp was glowing fine;

He held the precious flame

And lighted mine.

- Lon Woodrum

One Month Later

One month since going to the hospital, and what a month it has been.  I wish more than anything I could say that we stumbled on magic and everything is better, but that is far from the truth.  I have never worked so hard to try to get better, and have subsequently never felt so much pain.  I still can't talk about what happened leading up to the hospital.  It hurts too much, and my heart is not ready to feel the emotions that accompany those memories yet.  I'm sure that day will come eventually, but for now, I am trying to get back to a good, stable place using every resource available to me and still finding myself just trying to get through a lot of days.  Many days, I cry as the grief of not being able to have another baby washes over me.  It's so heartbreaking accepting that reality.  I never ever thought any of this would be my life, and I don't know how to be okay with it yet.  I also never thought I could survive such intense, persisting pain, but somehow that is happening.  If there is one thing I know when everything else is so confusing, it's that I love my family and that love has never been stronger.  They are why I can and want to go on.

Project Semicolon

 "A semicolon represents a sentence the author could have ended, but chose not to."

Our family makes the daily choice to continue together through whatever comes our way, no matter how hard or scary or heartbreaking.  We have each other, and that gives us the strength to keep going.

#Continue 

#Semicolon 

#WeCanDoHardThings 

#TogetherForever