Getting worse!!

It's getting worse again.

I don't even know what to do.

Things have been monstrously stressful lately. This is the busiest I've ever been in my life, so I can understand a healthy dose of stress, but I got a mouth ulcer, my weight is skyrocketing, and some of my old depressive symptoms are back. I sit at work and, despite blasting classic hip hop, can't stop thinking about all these discrepancies and painful misunderstandings from the past.

People judging me or completely misreading my intentions or actions.

I was planning a party for my husband, and I asked who he wanted to invite. He didn't mention his brother, and I suggested he ask to be nice (we both assumed his new wife would have something planned). We were surprised to learn that she had no plans for his birthday. I assumed this meant she'd be out of town. And, of course, his brother didn't say or allude to anything. So I invited him.

Mistake of a lifetime.

Apparently, this meant that I was purposely excluding his wife from a birthday party for both my husband and his brother (it was just Stephen's). I was being hurtful. Of course, still no one said anything to me, they just kept it to themselves to be mad at me for until it came out later.

That still bothers me. I don't know if it will ever not.

I was gossiped about my actions after getting cheated on. ME, of all three people involved.

Just a LOT of things like that from people who don't know me. They were mean to me from the beginning. Not unwelcoming, just legitimately mean. They'd all call me self-absorbed despite a major in social work, domestic violence shelter volunteer training, etc. Everything they knew about me (which extended only to Facebook) contradicted self-centeredness. Yet everyone loved to call me that.

I think about how easy it would be to just end it again. It's easier to fixate on something else when my mind wanders here, but I'm just tired of feeling this way. Feeling pressure everywhere I turn. I can't be myself and, even if I could, I would probably have to look at someone a certain amount or say things a certain way. Like they're constantly watching and judging me. I can't handle that.

But my mother-in-law apologized for everything she did fairly recently. We cleared a bunch of things up. I want to say everything is forgiven, since it's on me now. She's done her part. But there is one thing I can't quite understand or forgive: my wedding. Most of that wasn't even her. A lot of it was my dad making us stand in front of everyone the entire night. A lot of it was everyone yelling at me and telling me Stephen was a scrub for not having a phone or car. A big part was Stephen's dad calling every day the few days before to ask Stephen to reconsider. But the biggest deal was an invitation she wrote to her family. It was mean, it was passive-aggressive and bitter. It didn't have my name in it. That I can't understand. She said it wasn't about me, but it was my name that was missing. No one wished us well. I know how that family feels about me, and I don't want to be around them. But I don't want my mother-in-law to think that I didn't appreciate her effort.

I don't know what to do. Sometimes I wish I didn't marry Stephen at all. Honestly. I love him and he makes me happy, but there is a lot of sorrow that the happiness is trying to make up for.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Other than that, I feel a ton of stress about future decisions, and I don't really have time to research them or obsess, which is apparently something I need to feel secure. Some things I've learned/questioned:

Can I ever work 40 hours a week? I'm doing it now, and it's so miserable. I hate getting up everyday to surround myself with people - even people who hardly speak English! I just feel like I need a break, some rest. I can't keep this up and live a healthy life. I'm stressed TF out. I'm run TF down. My body is going nuts. Could I ever do it? If I got a job I loved?

Things fall apart at home. There are dishes in the sink that have been there for over a week. Stephen doesn't take baths or groom as often as he should. Millie's litter gets neglected. The house gets cluttered and/or messy. It stresses me out, but everyone else is okay...should I quit work to keep up my wifely duties?

Should I get my paramedic, or AEMT? Since I'm probably gonna be having babies soonish, should I bother wasting another $10,000 to get my paramedic? Would I ever be able to use it? After babies, my kidneys might go haywire. Other health issues. Who knows? Or I could get my AEMT and stop there and work. But again, will I be able to work? I think I would like the schedule more because they're 12-24 hour shifts 2-3 times a week. Especially if I were just an E.R. technician, that wouldn't be too stressful, right? And the work would certainly be meaningful!

I don't know. In the perfect world, I would be able to handle my current schedule with my ultra-accelerated schooling so that I could have my own money and feel worthwhile and see Stephen at 4pm every day! But...I really can't. I feel like I'm running around with mangled legs. I'm trying to do everything, so I end up doing well at nothing.

And it's weird, but I think about having a baby now and I get excited. Sometimes. I don't know if it's my biological clock ticking, inspiration/guidance, or something else...

Depression

Despite having chronic depression for nearly a decade, I've been learning a lot about it lately. Regarding this, I've uncovered a flaw in my thinking.

Maybe it's just the circle I run in, but it seems like everyone and their dog has "depression and anxiety". Honestly, it's beyknd irritating to me because the two don't seem to be mutually exclusive. As if you must have one to have the other. And I examine these people and their lives, and it just rarely added up. They had active relationships with friends, a social life, success (academic and/or career). They had hobbies and activities they liked to do. They didn't really seem like me at all, and it would make me mad. They can't say they have these things and live a normal life, it makes us look bad!

But not all depression is the same.

I was comparing everyone to me: if their "illnesses" weren't as bad as mine or, somehow, worse, they weren't actually depressed. Certainly, they didn't "have anxiety" (such an annoying and non-specific phrase). The problems with that are A) my depression was severe. Moderate and mild depression are real and should be validated. B) there are other types and levels of depression.

Even in my own life, my depression was not always severe. High school was a nightmare. I'd ditch classes at every opportunity, I was alone most of the time, I didn't really hang out with friends, and I experienced constant digestive distress, but I was still able to make it to school late. I had hopes for the future, and I enjoyed viola. At the time, I adjusted. I thought it was bad and that it couldn't get worse, but it did.

After high school and through college, the depression worsened and destroyed me. I lost a lot of weight, my digestion was obliterated, I didn't enjoy viola or anything anymore, and I could not possibly feel good. Ever. I spent literally every second hoping I would die. That a car sound crash into me, a silent brain aneurysm would bleed the organ of distress dry, or that I could gather the courage to finally shoot myself without incident. I couldn't hold a job or do well in school, even if I had enough energy to try. I had NO energy. That lasted a little over 4 years.

So, in my decade of suffering, only the last years of it were truly severe. Yet I can't validate anyone with anything less than that?

When someone claims depression, my first reaction is to be critical and somewhat offended. And, while this serious diagnosis is thrown around like a frisbee, it's possible likely other people have it - whether mild, moderate, severe, chronic, episodic, or situational.

That said, I think this is a vastly over-diagnosed issue. All you have to do for a prescription from a general practitioner is say you're sad and have feelings if guilt. I've done it very easily for lexapro and zoloft. Therefore, I don't take most people who haven't been to an actual psychiatrist seriously.

I think (and I have absolutely no research behind this) we're just much less resilient than we were years ago. Back then, hardship was an everyday experience. Nothing came easy, everything required work (making soap, fetching water, etc.), and death and disease were commonplace. Everything is easier and more accessible now. Diseases are cured, babies don't die as much, and neither do the old.

We have it good, yet antidepressants fly off the shelves. I really think we're just used to things coming easily to us that we can't really cope when they don't. It's because of this that I have a really hard time accepting depression for people who have just broken up with someone, or who had to leave a beloved program at school, or who gets home from a mission and is no longer "worshipped" by members. All of these situations are an adjustment, and will of course make someone reasonably sad, but not depressed. That's offensive to me, and to everyone else who can't get taken seriously because people don't know what real depression looks like.

I get bothered because there are still people who don't even believe it's real. I get similarly bothered by someone who will cry "depression" anytime a hardship comes their way. The latter, I believe, causes the former. That's why people need to be much more careful using that word. We all could stand to be a bit more resilient.

That said, crap happens. Real crap. Some people are "blessed" with tons of it in a single lifetime. And, when combined with unfortunate genetics, unfortunate consequences follow. Not every clinically depressed person had a ton of bad things happen to them. Enough, but it doesn't always take much. Conversely, not every non-depressed person has had it easy. Not by a long shot. That could be genetics or resilience.

Either way, I think my point was to be careful judging both the depressed and non-depressed. Don't throw that word around, please. It furthers stigma and misunderstanding.Lastly, it's not "cool" to be mentally ill. No one gives you a break for it. People judge you (even other mentally ill people, see?). It's not fun. There's nothing sexy or compassion-earning about it.

Full-time

It's blurry.

I'm in a training program right now and it's kicking my butt! It's hard to do school and full-time work. Very hard. Even though I found a great job, I wish I'd waited to find one. This is my future, and the job is just a temporary provider.

Anyway, having all this going on has given me a small taste of the downsides of full-time work. My house is in constant disarray, my husband begins to look unkempt, dishes pile up, and my stress manifests as arguments with my husband. I'm less happy, despite having less worry about money.

Because everything is beginning to fall apart, I worry if I should even try to get a career anymore. Me having a life causes tumult in my home now, what if we had kids? Just one kid? They'd be so neglected! And, if I ever do become a parent, I want to be a good one.

On top of that, I'm experiencing acute stress on a daily basis. My stomach is getting noticeably bigger because of the cortisol. For some reason, perhaps because I'm so aroused from stress, I experience extreme vaginal discharge. It's freaking me out, honestly.

My job itself isn't stressful, I just worry about getting there on time and there are people present. They don't even hardly speak English. I am alone most of the time. And yet, I'm still THAT stressed out. Maybe I'm just not cut out for work. That worries me too.

If we were to ever have kids, it just seems like any more investment in my career is useless. I can't really handle both.

That just makes me very sad.

Intrapersonal

At first glance, being intrapersonally intelligent is stupid. It's generally the last in the list of intelligences. Probably because it's rare, perhaps more likely because it's the least useful. Honestly. It's easy to see how naturalistic intelligence can help with farming and food, logistic/mathematical intelligence with engineering and science, spacial intelligence with art and creation, linguistic intelligence with practically everything...

They are all so obviously useful and beneficial to others. Intrapersonal? Not so much. What is so good about being in-tune with and knowing your own self? How does that help anyone?

My conclusion (a half-baked one) is that we can be examples, at least, and very empathetic at best. Introspection is the star quality in intrapersonally intelligent people. It's second-nature to reflect and disect our feelings, thoughts, motivations, strengths, and weaknesses. Generally, this breeds ethical behavior and motivations along with self-regulation.

From Udemy blog's Jesamine's article on intrapersonal intelligence:

Introspection

Introspection is the deliberate act of looking inward in order to gain insight into the nature of one’s own thoughts or feelings. An introspective person wants to understand why he or she thinks, feel,s or acts in a certain way, not as a means of justification, but rather as a means to better understand what might be working “behind the scenes”. If he or she uncovers jealousy or envy, then that will further be explored. Where does the jealousy come from?  Why am I envious? If fear is discovered, then he or she will want to go to the roots of that fear in order to find out where it started.  A person who has explored his or her inner depths in such a way develops an entirely different level of ethical awareness, one that goes far beyond the simplicity of a conventional ethical system."

Reading this has helped me understand why I annoy my MIL so much when I ask why she does/has done certain things. From whay I've been reading, it's just not normal for people to analyze their actions so deeply. They don't sit there for hours thinking about the patterns and motivations behind them. It may also be why she thinks I'm selfish. Thinking about myself all the time certainly does seem selfish!

But it has it's place. Introspection and self-awareness are important. Most of all, I think it fosters empathy and exploration of the feelings of others. We're naturally equipped to ask the deeper questions, we just need to help others apply it to themselves. 

All said, it's still the most self-serving of all the intelligences, and I'm not proud it's the most prevalent in my persona, but it's there. 

My therapist

I don't know how much longer I have with my therapist, but I'm already devastated. Ending therapy isn't a choice, but insurance only lasts so long. We've had a little over 50 sessions now. I've gotten so much better. He gave me hope, he made me feel like a worthwhile person instead of a chronic screw-up. He let me be myself, and helped me find my best self. He gave me a chance at a new life and happiness. I never thought I wouldn't look forward to dying. He, in more ways than one, saved my life.

I don't want to let go of such an important person in my life. I'm not ready for this. I can't stop crying.

I want him to see me succeed. I want him to know what he's done for me. I want him to be proud. I also worry I'll need him when I go back to school and get another job. All the hard things are coming up, what if I need help?

I don't know. It just feels like I'm losing such an important person in my life. How can I thank him? How do you say goodbye to someone like that?

Keeping it up

Things are moving right along in Vanessa world. It's absolutely horrifying - every. single. step - but it has to be done. Answering the door, answering the phone, being outside my house, holding decent conversations... All the stuff of nightmares. It needs to happen as frequently as possible so I can break the bonds of this disabling force in my life. It has to happen, and I finally have the energy and drive to accomplish something like that (now that the depression has mysteriously disappeared).

That being said, I'm healthy enough to go back to school! I applied today. I'm still going after the field of death investigation, but I'm doing a different program than anything I've done before. Another new start, and I'm determined to make it my last. It needs to be a secret, because I've jinxed and embarrassed myself enough! Unfortunately, people are always asking what you're up to when you're my age, so that's going to be difficult to dodge.

Anyway, this has been a bunch of self- indulgent frivolity. I'm just excited!

Church things.

Toward the end of last year, as I was getting healthier, I found it easier to go to church. My attendance improved from "rare" to "often". Church was still largely uncomfortable at best. My skin crawled, and I found it hard to concentrate on talks because of it. There was no blood, but plenty of sweat and tears on the road to righteousness.

I just felt better about myself when I'd spend some time at church on Sunday. Like I fed a compulsion. Soon, it was time to do tithing settlements. It wasn't hard to admit that we hadn't paid tithing, but it was uncomfortable when I was told we could begin paying and be considered full tithe-payers. I don't like easy-way-outs when it comes to repentance. Still, it planted the idea that we should be real full tithe-payers. 

Neither of us had ever had a positive experience paying tithing. You'd always hear about miraculous events happening to people who sacrificed for the sake of tithing...never happened to us. But we have had a distant want to be sealed for a couple of years, so we figured this would be just another rung on the ladder toward that.

Not so.

Ever since our first tithing payment, I've noticed a big difference in what most people would attribute as "luck". Seriously. So many small things that would always go wrong just started to go right. My life was plagued with things going wrong, or being harder than they needed to be. I got two jobs that I shouldn't have gotten at all. Two jobs I wouldn't have gotten. When I ask for help for the most trivial upsets, the upsets disappear! It's difficult to explain, but there has been quite the difference.

Stephen is getting his patriarchal blessing on Sunday. We saw the temple together. We're actually going places now. And, when we recently ran out of money, the bishop offered us food through the storehouse. We got so much fresh food, things we couldn't normally eat because of the price. It's been awesome, we're so grateful!

Anyway, my grandpa and I were talking about it, and he said that "your money is where your heart is." It's true. And it's about time our hearts were in the right place.

Since these changes, for some reason, I'm finally understanding the bigger picture of this life. It's to be happy, sure, but also to serve God. To basically prove ourselves, and prove that we will choose God. Don't you think? 

Which leads me to my next point. For the first time, I'm feeling close to equal to men. Like we women actually are valuable. Not sure most LDS men are convinced, but I know God feels that way. For the first time, I feel alright sacrificing basically everything to make bodies for God's spirit children. I never really wanted kids. I still DON'T, but I am happy to serve in what ways I can. 

So there's my learning experience. I just don't want to forget any of this. The numerous blessings from tithing, the kindness from our ward, and the acceptance of what my body is capable of (presumably).