This is a post I had trouble deciding whether to share or not. But I figure, we go through this life to gain experience, to be tested, to prove ourselves, to grow, to gain and grow a testimony, to worship, and to uplift those around us.
And sometimes what we gain from our experiences - especially the difficult, dark, unimaginable ones - can help those going through similar experiences or even those going through completely unrelated experiences.
This one is for you...
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A cloud of fog had been forming around my feet gradually over the past few years and while riding the roller coaster of life, there were times when I was high enough away from that fog that I didn't see it forming below me. Waiting for me to fall in. And eventually, my ride would dip down low and I'd have no choice but to see that fog in all its glory.
For a few years, when I would dip low, the fog was there but it was weak and I would easily overcome it. But as time passed on the fog grew deeper, and when my ride dipped back down in January of this year, it had become so wild, so unresolved and so thick that I couldn't see. And I couldn't breathe.
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Temptation.
One thing this trial I experienced has taught me is that no one is immune to satans grasp. If you're convinced you're safe, you're already treading in dangerous waters...
He really doesn't care what you choose to do, as long as you're not choosing the right; he doesn't care how you sin, as long as you don't repent. Satan does not care where you wander, as long as you're not holding on to the iron rod.
Contrary to naïve belief, Satan does not drag you down to a gulf of misery...he uses baby steps. He gently, calmly, passively guides you away from what you SHOULD be doing, and just as soon as you stop kicking and screaming and LET him lead you away, he lets go of you, betrays you, and moves on.
Passively, people. The frog placed in boiling water hops out; the frog passively placed in cool water stays until it's too late...
I was the second frog and stayed until it was too late. And I was boiled. And died...almost.
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Boiled hopelessly numb.
As the months of this year progressed I felt lost. On the outside I looked different, I acted different, I spoke different, and on the inside I was a complete stranger. I was not myself and I knew I wasn't ever going to be the same. I was finished. I convinced myself that I was "too far gone." That the things I had now done were unforgivable, I was never going to be looked at the same way again. I had lost everything and everyone around me, I had no reason to keep living. I convinced myself that the feelings I felt were here to stay, and I couldn't live with those...and I was too numb to fear dying anymore.
These were my thoughts as I attempted to go about my day to day. I wasn't praying anymore, I had completely removed myself from the Spirit, and I was just going to attempt to survive my life on my own. To be a wife and mother without the help of my Savior and Creator...Satan was having a field day.
Thursday, May 19th I had the worst morning. I was overbooked with too many places and appointments to be at in too little time. Logan had an appointment and the doctor made us wait almost an hour! Logan needed blood drawn and was scared to death and the people there were idiots.
Afterwards, driving home I was frazzled. I was spent. It was only noon and I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to die. I didn't want to be a mom anymore, I didn't want to be alive anymore. Someone else could take better care of my children than I could anyway.
To get home from Apache Junction you take Ironwood rd and the speed limit is 55. There are usually a lot of semi-trucks on the road and no median...
Every time a semi would approach in the distance I would tell myself that this was it, my chance to end it all, to end my grief.
I'd hesitate, and it would pass me by.
But instead of relief washing over me, I felt robbed. I started getting upset when one would pass, as though my chance to leave this life was somehow taken away too quickly.
As I looked at the cars driving in the lanes to my left, I began having which ones would do the most damage- in case no more trucks came down this way.
I readied myself for the next semi, and just then I saw it coming in the distance. I was ready, everything would be over within forty five seconds and then my unknowing, innocent three year old bystander coughed.
And I remembered I wasn't alone.
Ending my life was one thing, but ending their lives was never my intention, but it was close to happening by mistake.
I snapped into survival mode, a mode I was all too familiar with, and drove us home safely.
I was shaking as I unbuckled my daughter, and overcome with more guilt than I could bear I walked inside the house, laid down on my kitchen floor and cried.
My crying soon became a panic attack and I luckily had my phone in my pocket and called Daniel. I told him he needed to come home from work immediately.
When he arrived I grabbed his keys and told him I needed to go to the hospital. I needed help immediately. Truth be told, he wasn't in favor of this, but in his defense he really had no idea how bad off I was. Appearance is misleading.
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Guilt.
Misery.
I checked myself into Banner Ironwood, and was quickly transferred to the Scottsdale Psychiatric Hospital.
There I went through the stages of denial, guilt, guilt, more guilt, and finally acceptance. Accepting that I have a behavioral health disorder, and had been living with untreated depression and anxiety; that I had a need for behavioral adjusting.
My week long stay in the psychiatric ward was a humbling experience to say the least. It was hell, not just in the sense of fear and shame, but also misery and guilt.
I am grateful for the people I met, for the most part, and grateful for the lives I touched.
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Lost.
How do I begin this part?
'Whether it comes right away, or it takes years, eventually you reap what you've sown?'
I was lost and depressed, but only because I chose to get lost while depressed...
I was like a hiker who decides it would be fun to play the game of chance and start randomly turning left, and then right, and left again never looking down at the map in his hands...
The ironic part of my suicidal tendencies was that it was almost completely tied to guilt. Once the issues and problems I was involved in were addressed by proper authorities and the guilt I had been carrying was eradicated, the suicidal desires calmed substantially...
(Delving into details here only brings unnecessary pain and isn't needed to share my testimony.)
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Burned. Burned. Burned. Burned.
There's a song played in the movie "New Moon" that drove me crazy. Like 'fingernails on a chalkboard crazy.' It's played during the scene where months pass following Edward leaving Bella, and she falls into a deep depression.
Song:
"There's a possibility,
All I'm gonna get is gone with your step,
All I'm gonna get is gone with your stare.
So tell me when you hear my heart stop,
You're the only one that knows.
Tell me when you hear my silence,
There's a possibility I would't know.
Know that when you leave,
By blood and by me, you walk like a thief,
By blood and by me, and I fall when you leave.
So tell me when you hear my heart stop,
You're the only one that knows.
Tell me when you hear my silence,
There's a possibility I wouldn't know.
So tell me when my sigh is over,
You're the reason why I'm closed.
Tell me when you hear me falling,
There's a possibility it wouldn't show."
That song kills me now. I've gone from loathing it, to relating to it, to swimming in it, to feeling somber about it. And now it's a part of a very dark past I can place behind me.
As much as it drove me nuts before- when you're in that fog of depression- those thoughts are absolutely relatable. When you're in that fog of depression it's near impossible to feel the companionship of the Holy Spirit.
And when it's near impossible to feel the companionship of the Spirit, you feel lost. You feel numb.
You feel forsaken.
And you lose sight of hope.
When this happened for me, I lost sight of what happiness was. I lost the ability to see what was real.
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Found.
Thank heaven for plans.
Thank heaven for plans that don't go as planned.
Thank heaven for the perfect plan of salvation.
Thank heaven the bishops are part of that perfect plan.
Thank heaven for the atonement.
Thank heaven for the opportunity we have, every second of our lives, to repent of our sins, and be made whole again.
Thank heaven for mercy.
Thank heaven for compassion.
Thank heaven for the scriptures.
...and thank heaven for my Savior.
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Antidepressants.
Yes. I take an antidepressant medication now to help my body regulate the levels that allow me to function the way I need to. I am so grateful to be alive at a time where medicine is available, and I can choose. I am so grateful to know I can pray to a lovingly, all knowing, perfect Heavenly Father for guidance.
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Time is a beautiful gift. Time was here and now time has passed, so technically this is already a thing-of-the-past. And test, in a small way time will not heal this, because time does not heal, love does.
To say time heals means you can just sit back and do nothing while time presses slowly on, doing all the work.
But doing nothing cannot and will not change anything. Doing something changes things.
Like healing wounds.
Love is nothing without action. Love is not just a feeling, it requires charity.
Wounds cannot and will not heal without love. Without charity, the pure love of Christ.
You cannot have compassion without mercy, and you cannot have mercy without love, and you cannot have love without charity.
"Be of good cheer."
--every prophet, priest, and revellater I have ever known or heard of.
