Counseling/Therapy

I want to step off my usual soapbox of "Broken Crayons Still Color" belief. And get on a totally different one, because I have had a ton of healing that has taken place and in this post, as well as my last, I’ll explain the healing that has taken place, with physical healing aside and focusing more on emotional and mental health.

Me: *steps on soapbox*

*crowd groans*

GRIEVING 

It wasn't until I started going to professional counseling once a week that I expressed somethings with one of my counselors (I've gone through 3 now), and he explained to me that I needed to allow myself to grieve. I found this odd because I thought grieving was what you do when someone passes away. But he went on to explain that I had/someone lost not someone but something; I had been taken away from my mission, my life plans and goals had had a total wrench thrown in them. And where nobody close to me had died, huge parts inside of me had, in a way, died. And he gave me permission to grieve. He allowed me to feel sad. And hurt. He explained that one can't truly feel better, until they can accept that whatever bad thing that occurred, actually had happened. I have talked a little bit about this. When I first got sent home I thought it was guilt that I felt, but I was able to realize that it was actually more shame than anything else. Shame for being home early, and not wanting to be seen by my other friends that were returning home without feeling like a giant sign was following you everywhere that said in big flashing neon letters "SHE GOT SENT HOME EARLY, THEREFORE STARE AT HER!" It might sound funny but most days, especially Sunday's or when attending other missionary homecomings I felt that way.

And then he said I had to stop telling myself to "suck it up" and instead allow myself to be sad. When I came to grips with what he said I felt like the weight I was carrying was a little more bearable, not in any way lighter, but easier to manage and maintain. I still felt bad for coming home. I still felt shame, and I still felt like the neon sign was following me everywhere, but I didn't get down on myself for feeling that way. I kept my sadness focused on only feeling upset over being home. It didn't do me any good to get more upset at myself, saying I shouldn't feel that way. So I allowed those feelings to come, and it was a relief not to try and suppress them. I could focus on more important things like trying to be healthier. I had less self-doubt, which was a big change that I had not been able to make on my own in over a year.

During this time I focused more on quitting sugar (which I have done successfully and have lost 20+ pounds because of it), I started coaching around that time as well. And even though I was sad I didn't loath myself for being that way. In a strange way as I allowed myself to grieve it slowly began to allow me to accept what happened.

COUNSELING/THERAPY

As I was allowing myself be sad I was still attending regular weekly counseling sessions. (And this is where I need to step onto my soapbox.) Counseling, therapy, witchcraft whatever you want to call it, has helped me heal from the events that led up to me going home. Medication and essential oils and special diets are for the benefit of killing the disease that is dealing havoc on my body right now. But when I came home in June, I knew I was already a mess, I knew things were going to get worse emotionally because I was home early, but I didn't know how bad, and I didn't know to what extreme. But after a couple months of returning home I found myself writing a letter to my parents because I didn't know how to tell them, or explain that I was suicidal and needed more help than the anti-depressants and the other drugs that were helping fighting Lyme.  I didn't know what to suggest. I didn't know what to do. I just knew that when I was told I was getting sent home me and my companion agreed that it was so I could get help. And she kept saying that before I left, over and over: "you are going to get the help you need." And I knew I wasn't getting it. I needed emotional healing that drugs couldn't do.

My doctor recommended counseling. I thought it would come down to this; I didn't like it at all. But I was so low and in such a bad place I agreed and immediately started going. Now, I had talked to an LDS counselor before, on my mission when things first started getting bad. But back then I was in denial that I even had depression so I didn't take it seriously. When I would talk to my counselor on the phone, I just listed off what was troubling me and she would suggest things like “keep a gratitude journal” which was great, but it didn't do anything to help me see better things in myself. But she was my first counselor, and she tried her best with what she had. I understand now you can't do much when you are on the phone. But back then. I thought it was a waste of time.

My second counselor was highly qualified (I'm not sure what my LDS counselor’s qualifications were, but I knew they weren't as high as my second counselor). The first thing he did was tell me that he recognized how truly humble I was by voicing (even if it was in a letter) that I needed help, and to come to counseling to get it. I didn't really know what to say to that, but it made me feel more hope. And I found myself opening up quickly with the same hope of getting the help I needed.

Because everyone has the same thoughts and fears of counseling as I did, I decided I’d address them:

1) I worried that if I was honest my therapist would judge me harshly, Or think I was a total mess. I think it went a little deeper than that as well, I think I feared that I was in too deep to even receive help. So they would just check me in a padded cell with a straight jacket.

Where this worry of mine came from some past events that had me believe this was an actual possibility, I learned from the first time I opened out about having harmful thoughts got you put on lock down in “room 9” of the ER. But what I learned is that honesty is really all a therapist asks for. If you give them honesty the better they are at helping you. I realized that worrying that my therapist would judge me is kinda like saying your doctor will assume you are a bad cook if you go to get stitches for tripping and stabbing a knife in your hand. It’s not in the doctors job description to critique you as a cook. It is his job to stitch you up and provide healing care. Same with a therapist. They want to provide mental and emotional healing.

2) I worried that I would have to go the rest of my life once I started. I know this is false, I expressed this worry when I began with my second counselor and he said we would go at my pace and when I said it was time to stop, all I needed to do was quit making appointments. Again, it’s like a doctor, you call if you need to talk.

3) I also worried that they would
make me change in ways I didn't want to. That they would suggest things that they thought I needed to do, but that I wouldn't agree. And I found that as I went once a week, the change came not from them telling me things I needed to do, but just by having them listen. Nobody can fo
rce you to change. It’s called agency and where I know I cursed it more than a few times on the mission, I am grateful for it. There have been things my counselors have suggested that I just sorta said “Eh… yeah probably not going to do that.” And it’s fine.

4) I also questioned within myself if I even wanted to talk. I thought to myself, “How can I be expected to go tell some stranger my problems, when I have to write a note to explain it to my own parents?” I still don’t understand this completely. But once I realized there was a neutral nonjudgmental person sitting in front of me, with the means of helping me straighten out my problems, I had no problem talking about it. And some sessions were much harder than others. A few were very emotional. But again, I had to feel those things and be sad, so that I could then start to feel better.

5) I also worried that I would go and pay an awful lot of money just to have someone tell me everything that is wrong with me. But I was wrong there as well. I found out new things that were wrong with me. Like PTSD for example, but they didn't sit there and say I was depressed, I already knew that. Or that I had anxiety that lead to panic attacks I already knew that too. What was great is they didn't say it exactly they just helped me realize how real it all was just by me saying.

 Theses are just a few things that I or other people I have talked to have voiced about their fears in going to counseling/therapy.

 The healing that has happened mentally and emotionally for me since starting counseling back in October is so great that I can say I haven't had a panic attack in 4 weeks. And my social anxiety is near depletion. Since counseling I can now tell someone I was bit by a tick, and sent home from my mission and later diagnosed with Lyme disease... something I could not do before. I can now attend a missionary homecoming, like I did just last Sunday, and not cry because of the shame and jealously I feel for wanting to be a "real return missionary". Because of counseling the PTSD that I had from the crazy events that led up to me being sent home, are all gone.

I didn't learn how to just “get over my feelings”, I feel like I learned that it’s ok to feel. To not get mad about it. I have learned it's ok to grieve. To be sad. To cry. To feel hurt. And now because of counseling I have accepted that I was sent home early. But that it's ok. Life goes on. It didn't seem like it would. I mean my life seems far from "going on". But the dark period of grieving is past now.

This is why I want to take this time to explain that if you have doubts about seeking help with a counselor or a therapist for any reason and if you do some deep soul searching and realize that it's just your pride. Or something else. I urge you to put it aside and give it a try. My second counselor couldn't fit with my schedule once I started coaching basketball, so I had to start with a different one, and he has been just as great, if not better. I still meet with him. I am far from better, and I'm still battling Lyme disease and depression, but counseling has helped.

If you are worried about what others think and that seems to hold you back from seeing a counselor, I will invite you to STOP IT! I will implore you to put the silly thoughts aside and do your mental and emotional self a favor and get help. Because, without counseling, I really don't know where I would be right now. I used to be super embarrassed to say I was going to counseling, I still don’t really openly tell people. And if I have to tell someone where I go once a week I just say the doctor... I know the stigma that comes from seeing a counselor. But now I also know its all wrong. And that counseling truly can help you heal.

Some lucky people may find themselves reading this saying, "I'm fine, nothing is wrong with me, I don't need counseling." And to that I say well then what are you doing wasting your time with this? However, If you find yourself saying “I’m not good at talking about my feelings...” Neither am I, but I learned how and that is part of getting better. And from my experience, counselors know how to best help you for your struggles. I had to tell myself this isn't some random dude off the street. He has been through intense schooling to know how to best help individuals with their problems. If you have thought for a while, or have been recommended for counseling and just don’t want to. You are making the wrong choice.

Counseling helps you heal in an emotional way that drugs cannot do. I know that now. And I am so grateful to have learned it.

Me: *steps off soapbox* 

*crowd cheers with relief*

-The Lyme Warrior

“YOU HAVE DONE ENOUGH."

I haven't been able to blog in a while because 1) my computer is sorta out of
commission. 2) I've been traveling a lot. And 3) I'm still really unmotivated to do big things. And blogging my thoughts and feelings to whoever reads this, is kinda a big deal to me. But I can't put off what I want to say any longer. #blamethetick

So now that I’ve made up excuses, that in my head seem pretty legit for not blogging, I want to blog about some things that have helped me heal. And some new insights that I have learned as I have started healing. And while I am a long ways away from healing physically I feel I have made a huge dent in the emotional illness that has been plaguing me since getting sick and then worsening as I came home. I have improved so much, and I’m going to explain how.

....I WENT BACK!

I got to go back to South Carolina. It was perfect timing to go back to my first area too! It was at the end of March, I was seeing so much improvement on my anxiety. I wasn’t missing too much church over anxiety either. I even was doing stuff a little on the weekends with friends from work and such. I was doing so much better. And if I had gone back any earlier I know I wouldn’t have been able to do it.

I only went back to my first area... I guess you could say where it all started because I  was bit there. But nothing really kicked in until I moved to my second area. But I was only going for 2 days. Me and my mom flew in to Atalanta, drove 2 hours to Anderson, then we drove down to Columbia to go to the temple, and then the next day we drove to Atlanta and flew home. Even though it was short I want to expound on the thought of “Broken Crayons Still Color” and what I learned in the short time I went back.

When I came home I felt like I was shafted... and maybe that is the wrong word. I felt like I was cut off from 6 months of lessons I could have learned, and 6 more months of chances I could have had to bless someone else’s life. I don’t know if that feeling will ever truly go away. Because we never truly know who we will touch every day. And I lost 6 months of precious time to do that. But I never got a chance to take a look at all the good I did... Until I went back.

I talked to one awesome man that I had loved to talk and teach. I saw him change and get better, I had all the confidence in the world that he would turn his life around. And I got transferred. I knew I would keep in touch, but when I went back this man cried, and got me crying as he explained to my mom how I had helped him get his life straightened out. And now he is preparing to make some even bigger steps in his life. And I couldn’t be more proud of him. But to see that what I had done may have not been a baptism, or an immediate reactivation and pushed towards the temple, but just me caring about this man. Who was thanking my mom for raising me and for letting me serve a mission. I was truly humbled. I don’t think this man knows how much better he helped me feel, just by letting me hear those things.

And then to go to the temple with a man I had taught and was baptized after I was transferred. To see him, his wife and his 3 daughters sealed for time and all eternity in temple is something I will never forget. As I watched them all being sealed I felt like Heavenly Father was saying “See Sadie, you have done enough.” and I left South Carolina feeling content.

The healing that took place in those 4 words “You have done enough” is indescribable. Not that I was basing my service off of numbers of converts... you are an idiot if you do that! But I was basing it off of time that I had to try and help as many people as I could. But I was able to see in just one area the few I had helped were changed forever. And I take no credit other than the spirit which The Lord blessed me to help those people that needed it. And then I guess in a way they will never know they were able to return the favor, by helping me see that when I went back. 

It was there in South Carolina that I first noticed that I wasn’t sad anymore, I realized that I wasn’t grieving that I was home. I think I had stopped grieving for a while, but I didn’t notice it until I was back. I realized the shame and the guilt and anger were gone. And it truly felt freeing to realize that I was enough, I did enough, and if its its enough for Him, than it might as well be enough for me too.

Broken Crayons CAN still color. I can think of so many people who just do their simple thing like visiting teaching and just how much that means to me. I see little kids at work, when it’s 2:30pm and I am dragging so bad, and they just give me a hug, and say “teacher I love you.” What more do you need? A 4 year old saying that to you is enough to make anyone smile and feel like they can make it just another hour.

And so I hope that we can all figure out a way, in our own way to see how we can help those other broken crayons. I’m broken. But I find that helping someone else helps me. And people tend to return the favor without even knowing it. I doubt the people in Anderson that I talked with will ever know just how much they have helped. But I know. And “they did enough.” So what can I do to make someone else feel like they are “enough”? or what can you do? These are just some ways we can all add to the coloring book of life.


-The Lyme Warrior

Lyme Update

I haven't blogged in a little while and there are a couple reasons as to why. I'll explain more in a little bit but this is just an update on how the medication seems to be helping and what has improved and what is still a problem that the disease is causing.

Improvements of symptoms

Lets start with my improvements that I have seen. So last month my Doctor took away all of my antibiotics that I have been taking and I started on 4 new antibiotics. It is a good thing that I have started these new ones because it means that my old antibiotics have run their course, and have killed off the bacteria that they can, but the bacteria has built up a shield known as bio film against the antibiotics so I'm on new ones to fight from a different angle.

My brain is slowly starting to come back. I read 2 books last week! I was so happy! I comprehended them and I understood everything in both books. I don't forget as much if I'm going a certain place, the only thing that I am struggling with now is forgetting certain words, and I still struggle with trying to figure out what I am trying to say when I am explaining something. Words at the moment are not coming all that easy for me at the moment (this is one reason why I haven't blogged a while), but I am slowly but surely gaining my mind back. There is defiantly much less brain fog. Now whether this means that I am actually getting better or if my Alzheimer medicine is just finally kicking in, I don't know. But either way I am thrilled with the results.

I am noticing that I am feeling more rested when I wake up in the morning, this is such a relief because this was one of my first biggest symptoms that I have been dealing with for over a year now. And even though I still struggle immensely with waking up in the morning (thank you daylight savings), I can tell that I have been sleeping better at night.

I don't herx as much as I used to. I'm not sure that is a good thing since herxing means you are getting better. But herxing is pretty miserable, so I'll count it as an improvement.

New Symptoms

I've started having some new and pretty weird symptoms pop up for the past month or so and I didn't even think anything of them until a week ago. The biggest one that has me worried is my arms and legs seem to fall asleep if I don't move them often. I wake up a couple times in the middle of the night with a multiple limbs tingling and every morning I get that pins and needles feeling with out fail. Then just today I was playing the piano for about 15 minutes and my left leg totally went numb, I stood up to walk away from the bench and almost fell over. It is a little concerning. I'm going to ask the Doctor what it means this week.


Another symptom that I have started to have is really greasy and oily hair. I have to wash my hair every day and even then by the end of the day my hair feels gross and greasy. This has bugged me because I used to go every other day and I rarely ever had oily hair. But now it is getting to be a pain. I have done some research and other people with oily hair and Lyme Disease were told that it just means that the Lyme spirochete is in their thyroid. Now I will of course ask my Doctor if it's true or not but from other Lyme Warriors that I have talked to and read on their blogs, they seem to have the same thing.

ME

Another symptom is I sweat so bad now. I laugh because I never really got tacos (the sweat patches on your shirt from your armpits), until I went on my mission to South Carolina in the middle of July with all that humidity I was pretty horrified at first with all the stain marks that were appearing on my shirts. But I just assumed they would go away now that I am back in dry Utah. But I am still sweating so bad. I also sweat on my feet and my hands. They are always so clammy and I really don't like it. It makes me feel gross. But this I know is another part of Lyme. It's just a yucky one.

Worsening Symptoms

The only symptom that has really gotten worse is the anxiety. I get little tiny anxiety and panic attacks over every thing now! I worry a lot, sometimes I think I get stomach aches from worrying so much. And I am not usually one to worry. But I am to the point where I won't go certain places or do certain things because I have too much anxiety. It is becoming very debilitating and frustrating to deal with at the moment. But I know that I can make it through.

Another symptom that has sort of improved but also worsened is my motivation/depression. I have talked in past posts about how part of depression is having low motivation to do certain everyday things that shouldn't be difficult. And low motivation is part of the reason I haven't blogged for a while as well. I don't have the motivation to sit down and type up how I'm feeling. I read those 2 books in one week. But I didn't want to stop reading because I was afraid that I would not have the motivation to pick the book back up. It took me 2 days to finish the last 15 pages of my last book, because I just couldn't find the motivation to pick it up. Now I have noticed that in the morning and afternoon at work my motivation is much higher, I am getting so much more done at work then I have since I have been home from my mission. The only problem is work is exhausting my motivation. I get home and I want to do absolutely nothing. I have to talk myself into driving home from work because I don't even want to do that I am so exhausted.


-The Lyme Warrior

The calm after an awesome storm

Since November I have been an assistant coach for the girls basketball team at my old high school. I have loved it. It has been so much fun and I've learned a lot more about the the greatest game ever invented by coaching. It's a whole different angle than playing! But it has been quite a storm too.

When I started coaching back in November I never thought once about how Lyme Disease would effect coaching. But it impacted a lot of how I coached. 

I'm competitive. I like to win. I used to thrive off of intense games. But our first away game the Sophomore and JV games were both super close and after the first one I had to go outside and breathe. I was having the heart racing, gut wrenching, hyperventilating panic attack. I walked out to the schools football field shaking and crying over a game that we won by just a few points. I couldn't calm down, and I was late for the JV game trying to get a grip.

The term "too close for comfort" brought new meaning to me. My comfort was not an option while coaching. As soon as the ball was tipped up into the air I felt like I could hardly breath until we were at least 15-20 points ahead, which hardly ever happened. We had a tough preseason, and an even tougher region ahead.

I started to wonder if I could handle coaching. Not because the practices were rigorous or the girls were too hard to coach, the girls were great! But I couldn't handle a close game. I knew I couldn't expect us to blow out teams by 30 points each game. That isn't basketball at all. So I just decided that I had to hold all that anxiety in. I was calm and quiet outside, but inside, most games (especially the close intense ones), I was a terror! After games I was exhausted. During pre season we had a lot of ups and downs and I chewed my fingernails like they were bubble gum. They bled and hurt really bad because I was just paranoid and freaking out so bad. 

Part of the problem was my thought process. At the beginning I wanted to grab my old uniform and jump out on the court and help the girls get the win. It was sorta a rude wake up call for me when I realized that 1) I don't have a prayer of playing a game with the girls! I probably couldn't even find the energy to play a half court pick up game. And 2) number 32 belongs to a different girl now. I had to change my thought process to realize those two things and it took me pretty much all preseason to get over it.

Then region started and boy howdy was our region tough! But I did feel like I was getting a handle on the anxiety. I wasn't as exhausted after games. I wasn't completely wasted the next day from so much emotional exhaustion. I was pretty proud of myself for holding up. I couldn't get too riled up though. And I always seemed to shut down when things got exciting. When my dad (the other assistant coach) started to yell at the refs it was my job to make sure he didn't get a Technical Foul. But when things got crazy like that I had to shut down and just focus on breathing. Those were some of my least favorite and most exhausting games. But I controlled myself in most games.

Then we went to state. I was so proud of the girls! I went to state my Jr. And Senior year and I was so happy for them. We got on the bus to drive to Salt Lake and as soon as we pulled into the parking lot of SLCC I felt so sick. I was breathing fast again. I had to go to the bathroom and tell myself to breath and calm down. I was angry at myself. How could I be this anxious? I wasn't even this nervous when I was playing! I was frustrated and new I needed to control myself before going into the locker room with the other coaches. I couldn't say anything in the locker room. It was taking every ounce of me to just breath and not cry. 

After our win (in OT, which practically did me in) I was so emotionally exhausted. That night I went to Texas Roadhouse with my family and broke down crying when I looked at the menu because I was so overwhelmed by the choices and the game that had just happened that I came unglued. I didn't know how I was going to be able to handle another game at state.

Two to back to back games later and we lose in the Semifinals. I was proud of the girls for making it that far. But so emotionally spent. After the locker room I went and sat by my mom and just wanted to pass out. I was done. And I was bumbed, I loved coaching, I wanted them to go to the finals. But I also couldn't help feeling a little bit relieved that it was over, and I feel ashamed that I felt that way. I feel really bad about that, because I know it's not me, but it's these limitations that I have that come with this disease. 

Anxiety is crippling. It's not just first day of school butterflies or when you go on a date with a guy you really like. It is mentally, emotionally and physically enabling. The pressure I had on me from coaching is gone but I loved it. I want to keep doing it because u know as I continue to get better I won't be as anxious over close games, or noisy fans. It was a killer storm to ride these last couple months, but totally worth it.

-The Lyme Warrior

Faith to not be healed

I wrote this post a little while ago after reading Elder Bednar's talk again. It's just a different perspective on how being sent home and my diagnosis went.

“Do you have the faith to not be healed?”

Elder David A. Bednar posed this question to a man that had an aggressive cancer, before giving him a priesthood blessing. I remember when I heard Elder Bednar tell this story in his CES Devotional “That we might not shrink.” I was a freshman at BYUIdaho, and had just received my mission call to the South Carolina, Columbia Mission. I felt the spirit in that talk very strong and it left an imprint on me that I couldn’t forget. And now almost 2 years since his talk was given, I still find myself going back to this talk often…

January 2014 I was 6 months into my mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I was working hard. I was being obedient. And I was loving the people. 3 things that my mission president said were 3 keys to a successful mission. But mid January in my second area I started to feel really down on myself. I thought it was because of lack of success in baptisms and told myself to suck it up. But it soon became apparent that the harder I tried the more down I got. My companion confronted me about it in a loving way and I shut her down. I told her I just needed to work harder. "Forget myself and go to work!" That's what President Hinckley did. That's what I was going to do.

“Why me?”

At first I asked Heavenly Father, "Why me?" I thought maybe he's trying to humble me? Maybe I'm doing something wrong? I started having self-doubts, and started getting really down on myself. I started to drag deeper and deeper into what I can only describe as a deep pit. And the harder I tried to climb out, the deeper I fell. And the deeper down I got, the farther away I felt from the spirit, which I knew I needed to teach. My prayers were earnest pleadings asking my Heavenly Father to help me get over myself. To help me stay focused.

Finally my dear companion, out of love and worry, insisted that I call the mission president. His wife answered and the first thing she said after I described my problem to her was "Well Sister, it sounds like you are depressed." I broke down sobbing on the phone. A part of me knew she was right, but for me, admitting it felt like I was giving into it too. I didn’t understand depression, I had no history, and my family had no history of depression. How could it suddenly just pop up while I was in the middle of something so glorious? Why would Heavenly Father allow that? I must be doing something wrong, I would often think to myself.

I was told to go to the doctor and get put on an antidepressant. Meanwhile I would chat on the phone with an LDS counselor every other week. I loathed taking that antidepressant. It was making me gain even more weight than the southern fried food. And I didn't like how it worked for a couple weeks and then it stopped and I got worse and had to get put on a higher dose.
Eventually it was time for a companion change and I was so sure I was going to get better after getting my new companion. She understood depression better than I did, and I was the one that had it, she didn’t! I could tell that we were going to work so hard and get things done and I was going to finally get over what I thought was just a “phase."

The “natural man” takes over and I “shrink”

But things kept getting worse. I started having restless sleep, nightmares, and mood swings like none other. One minute I'd be laughing hysterically for no reason, and 5 minutes later I'm crying. I became so frustrated I stopped taking the medicine; it wasn't working so why take it? Plus, I was embarrassed about taking it...so I stopped. After a couple of really hard days my companion asked if I needed to change medicine again and I told her I had stopped. It became a nightly chore for her to get me to take my medicine. It usually involved me yelling and crying. And her begging me, sometimes until midnight, until I would give in and take it.

My prayers at night became longer; I would go into our little kitchen and beg, sometimes for 45 minutes, pleading with Heavenly Father to just help me be happy. “I just want to be happy.” I would repeat as I sobbed on the floor, imploring for a miracle of healing, which I felt I deserved. When saying my prayers I would sometimes feel a little rejected. I knew I was supposed to be on a mission, I recalled the words that my stake president had promised me in my setting apart blessing: “You will have no sickness or illness mar your service…” I felt like Heavenly Father had gone back on his promise, because I was suffering from depression and it was effecting my work, how I taught, how I felt the spirit. I was deeply frustrated.

June 2014 just under a year of service, I was sent home for depression.

I can’t describe the shame I felt and the hurt and confusion that followed, I didn’t want to give a homecoming talk, didn’t want to see family, I wanted more than anything to be back on a mission. I prayed for a quick recovery, so I could get back out, but when I found out that I had to be depression free for 6 months before I could get back out. I knew then that I wasn’t supposed to be going back.

His Will not mine

One night, after being home about a month, while I was looking at old study journals I found my notes from Elder Bednar’s talk, and I went to my computer and read the talk. I was deeply touched, and humbled in some ways at these specific words:

“No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude and humility. All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God … and it is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that we come here to acquire” (quoted in Spencer W. Kimball, Faith Precedes the Miracle [1972], 98).

After reading this part I got down on my knees and talked with my Heavenly Father. I didn’t ask for relief, I didn’t ask “Why?” I just talked to Him. I explained how I felt and I finally felt that bitter resentment lift. And little by little as I read more of this talk, understanding came to me. Like the sun rising I gradually felt like Heavenly Father was telling me everything was going to be ok. That this was His will, and that I needed to accept it as His.

As Elder Bednar quotes Elder Maxwell, I needed to remember that “Not shrinking is much more important than surviving! Moreover, partaking of a bitter cup without becoming bitter…” I had said on my mission “Thy will be done.” But I couldn’t accept it. For some reason I couldn’t grasp the thought of me going home early as Heavenly Fathers will. But reading the words “Do you have the faith to not be healed?” I realized that not all the priesthood blessings in the world would work if I didn’t believe this first.

Fast forward to September, where the doctor reads me my 28-vials-worth-of-bloodwork and tells me I have Lyme Disease.  Lyme Disease is known as "The Great Imitator" because it imitates so many different kinds of diseases, and that is why it is so hard to diagnose. For example, if you would have asked me in July or August of 2014 why I got sent home, I would have told everyone it was because of depression. But the fact is that Lyme Disease imitates depression, or MDD. It can also imitate Fibromyalgia, MS, Bipolar, CFS (chronic fatigue syndrome), Alzheimer’s, and also arthritis. It can effect basically anything in the brain, joints, nervous system, heart and muscles. The bacteria infested my brain, caused depression, anxiety, mood swings, suicidal thoughts, insomnia and many other issues. It had infested my brain for 9 months before I could even begin antibiotic treatments. I was bit by a tick in December of 2012 without even knowing, and now I am on treatment that will last up to 2 years to get the bacteria all out of my system.

I felt a sense of relief when I was told I had Lyme Disease. At first I thought it was because it meant that the depression really wasn’t me, like I felt all along. But as I think more about it, I feel like the relief was from Heavenly Father, because I accepted the diagnosis, and I understood I was being blessed with the capacity to “not shrink.”

As I battle this Disease I keep in mind Elder Bednar’s question, “Do I have the faith to not be healed?” As I do this my prayers have change from, “Please heal me.” To, “Please increase my faith and stamina so I can bear this Disease today. Or I’ll ask for strength. And I always end my pray that I may be open and understanding to my Heavenly Fathers will.

https://www.lds.org/broadcasts/article/ces-devotionals/2013/01/that-we-might-not-shrink-d-c-19-18?lang=eng

6 lies early return missionaries tell themselves

These are things that I have told myself so I know they are real. These are pertaining to missionaries who were honorably released before their 18 or 24 months were up. If you feel like there are more, feel free to add them.

1) I don't get the same blessings of full service return missionaries.

This is something I didn't know I felt until I was sitting a couple weeks ago with my Stake President explaining my situation, and he said that I should not feel like I do not get the blessings that full time missionaries get upon returning. He said that if these were my thoughts, to stop because it's not true. I was released honorably and therefore am entitled to be blessed as if I came home like any other sister that served 18 months. The relief I felt form his statement was so satisfying. I didn't realize I felt that way. And to hear someone say that was very uplifting.

2) I can't do hard things.

This is something that I said probably everyday after my mission for a long time. Our mission motto in South Carolina was "I love tough things!" I said that all the time. And we were reminded that our missions were one of the hardest things we would ever do, and I couldn't do it. That's what I said. I had failed. But in reality I was doing something even harder. I was leaving the mission to come home, to get better. It is even harder to do. And therefore I was still doing hard things, and whether I realized it or not, I was making it.

3) I could have done more to stay out.

This is a thought that still comes to my mind a lot. I still think this. I wonder if I would have been more open with my companion, and mission president if I could have stayed. I think of every possible angle. If I would have just prayed and fasted more. If I would have trusted Heavenly Father more He would have let me stay. I think this is a trap that everyone falls in that has come home early. What I needed to realize and accept is that this was God's Will. Neal A Maxwell once said "Faith in God includes faith in His timing as well." Coming to grips with the idea that this was all in God's plan for me was impossible for me to accept at one point in the early months being home. I didn't want to think that was an option. But we can't think this way, it is a lie and a torturous one at that. I have spent so many nights thinking about how I could have stayed out. It doesn't help the healing. Yes, of course it hurts, but I had to accept that it was God's Will for me.

4) I have let God down.

Now this is a serious lie I said countless times as well! What I felt like was that I had sinned by coming home early and by so doing I had let God down. I was wrong to think this way. I was honorably released and sent home for health reasons, I had not violated and commandments or covenants that I had made with God. Yet I felt what I thought was guilt. When really I was feeling shame, and it took me a while to know what the difference of those 2 emotions are. I thought I was feeling guilty for letting God down. When really I was just ashamed to be home early. And again I was not accepting of God's Will.

5) I can't go on with my life now

This is a lie I used as an excuse for a while. Missionaries who finish their full service have a hard time getting back into "real life", but try being home early from the mission. Now, part of it was the Lyme Disease, but I did not want to think about my life moving on because I was so upset over being home early. it was an excuse I used to mope and try and figure a way I could have stayed out longer. 

6) People will judge me from now on

I remember feeling shame when in my new ward people would ask about me and I would say I just got back from my mission. Whether they knew it was an early release or not I felt like they already knew and they were already judging me. What actually was happening is I was judging myself, and then thinking everyone else was judging me the same way. If they do know and judge, it's not my problem. I have had to come to realize that I did my best and once again, it was God's Will. And I have found that most people are not judging. after all, you are you're own worst critique.

I have to remember that these lies are not from God, they are from Satan "the father of all lies" who wants "all men that they may be miserable like unto himself." If Satan can get me to think that I was an awful missionary for coming home, that God is ashamed of me for letting Him down. If he can get me to think these long enough, or any of us, then we could lose hope in the gospel and fall away. It is one of Satan's cunning ways. We can't give the devil any place to "destroy [our] peace or afflict [our] soul." And it has taken me a long time to figure that out.

-The Lyme Warrior

Sick or not sick? That is the question.

Somebody asked me this week how I still act and look normal even though I am actually really sick... Now I have thought about this, at the time I didn't know what to say, I just signed and said that I didn't know. But as I think about it, I have a couple theories as to why I try and look as normal as possible.

Theory #1 

The bacteria is in my brain. This is a fact. And as such it has not only given me early Alzheimer's symptoms and depression. But sometimes I wonder if the bacteria has also given me the multiple personalities... How do I act normal? Well it's because I have 2 people up there in my brain! And the sick one is over crowded by the one trying to be real. Now this theory would be more accurate of I named the crummy personality from the happy personality, but I don't like this theory so I won't go on this one and have it become real. Actually this one is probably the dumbest theory of them all, ah well, get rid of the worst first.

Theory #2

My pride. Ya see I don't want people to know I'm suffering from depression. So instead of being down about it and letting the world know (I guess I'm kinda eating my words here by posting this on a blog!!), I just put on that happy face and go with it. I'll send a couple of funny snap chats to friends and if all they see is someone who seems happy, then good for them! Yeah I might be feeling really bad inside. Majority of the time I'm probably really down about something. But do I tell them? No! I am not one to burden people. Even on the mission I had the hardest time towards the end because I felt like a giant burden to my mission president, and to my companion. I can't stand feeling that way. That is why I feel like this might be a possible reason I don't look so sick, because my pride is bigger than my sickness.

Theory #3

I still have a strong belief of "fake it till you make it!" I had it on the mission, and even though I know I don't always "make it", I just can't quit. This was probably my last survival skill I used on the mission. I started being what I loathed the most, and it was a fake missionary. I don't like being fake, but for some reason deep inside me I am everyday, maybe because it is to protect my pride like in Theory #2, either way this is a possible reason as to why I won't walk around like a zombie everyday.

Theory #4

This theory ties in with #3. You see sometimes I wonder, because I can fake it, I have become quite the thespian! Haha I'm not bragging, I'm just saying that I can take it as a sort of compliment when someone says "well you don't look sick." I can look at it as a critique, my acting skills must have gone up another level! Now I'm not saying I can go be in the next marvel movie, but I am saying that Kristen Stewart better watch out! Hahahaha jokes!! This theory is also another probably not true, but it does give me a laugh.

Theory #5

I am a firm believer in the saying "misery loves company" and I don't want to be the miserable girl making everyone else miserable along the way. That is NOT what I am about. I'm the one who makes people laugh when they are down. I don't get down and bring people with me. That isn't me!! And I felt like on the mission I started to do that towards the end. I guess you could say I was in pretty bad shape towards the end because everything just seemed to hit rock bottom. And now that I can look back and see the things I did because I was so sick, I now know my limits. I can tell when I am getting to that miserable "rock bottom" spot and I can either remove myself from society for a little bit and take a nap, or lock myself in my room or whatever is needed at the time. I don't like making people miserable with my own misery. 

Sometimes I feel like people think like Calvin's mom, but lately I've been thinking like Calvin.

All this being said, it is a good thing when someone tells me I don't look sick, or that they never would have guessed I was so sick... Or whatever. It's good because whichever theory you want to use, it's working, I'm not bringing people down, I'm not burdening others with my problems, I'm excelling in acting, whatever it is, I'm accomplishing it. Some days more than others.

I realize that it is also a little bit of a bad thing. It's bad because day after day I wear myself out extra. I fake being one person when really I am hurting inside, mentally, physically and emotionally. And then I end up getting into these big deep pondering moments where I ask myself who am I really? Am I this happy girl? Then I say "heck no! She's so fake!!" And then I say, well I guess it means I'm this tumultuous messed up crazy thing then. And I don't want to be that either.

All in all, I feel like if you take all these theories and squashed them together I'm either sick or fake. Miserable or Schizophrenic. I either have a future in acting or a deeply wounded pride. I can't seem to find that in between. All I know is that I wake up each morning and all the negative things that I say to myself about not being able to make it, or that I can't I push them out and get ready to face each day with whatever comes my way.

-The Lyme Warrior