Trapped

I feel trapped.  The people who are less than close friends and who I know like me, and who enthusiastically and regularly tell me so, probably don't know what I would call the "real me."  They see the outside varied cheerfulness and don't expect the darkness within.

I'm sure this is a common problem.  "You don't know me!"  "If you only knew how I really was!"

I have a psychological need to confirm to them that I am like they think I am.  I plan ways to do emotional acrobatics to keep on a brave smiling face and not weasel out of social functions. 

What am I afraid of?  That they won't like me?  I'm trying to accept the thought that I'd rather be hated for who I am than loved for who I am not. 

I have to remind myself that their reaction will not necessarily be "she's got issues/she's an apostate/she needs some fellowshipping/she needs more attention than we're already giving her/she's wrong."  Maybe it's possible to be an example to them of a non-traditional Latter-day Saint whose opinions are just as valid.

Happy Happy Joy Joy

One of my biggest complaints with LDS culture (remember-not the Gospel itself, but the culture that twists the truths of the Gospel) is the notion that if we just have enough faith and do everything right (e.g. read scriptures, pray, go to church, pay tithing, fulfill callings, etc.) we should always be happy.  Really, if you're sad, you're doing something wrong.  Obviously.  "Men are that they might have joy" and all that, you know?  Well, "joy" does not mean being perkily, heel-clicking happy all the time.  Joy can be just a calm peace amidst the storms of life; it is the core solidarity in times of change and confusion.  This solidarity comes from knowing the truth of the Gospel.  Unfortunately, many people think having "joy" means always having a great day and smiling.  

I was recently diagnosed with depression and anxiety, and it has been increasingly obvious to me that people are mistaken about why people are sad.  So often, it's said that having the Gospel brings happiness and that only those who know the truth are truly happy.  Yes, that's true.  But happy as in the happiness that comes from knowing the truth (as in the elimination of existential angst); it isn't always the same kind of "happy" you feel when it's your birthday or you eat your favorite food or that cool guy asks you out.

Since I was tired of hiding how I really felt (clinically depressed) and tired of cringing every time people asked, "How are you?" and clearly just expected me to say, "Good, how are you?" and move on with the conversation, I posted a note on facebook explaining what was going on in my life: I was like the sad little Zoloft blob who felt no interest in things anymore, I had insomnia from the racing thoughts I had from anxiety, my medication hadn't kicked in yet and was only making me exhausted, I had physically injured myself to deal with the pain.  Loads of people responded, and most were helpful and good.  I had spelled out in my note that no, I didn't want advice and that the most meaningful thing someone could do is just be there for me and able to listen.

Some of the responses were not so pleasing, and they were from adults in my home ward.  One of their messages included the phrase, "We all have our ups and downs."  The other was from a previous youth leader who is one of those people who is always perky and grateful for EVERYTHING.  The gist of her message was to read my scriptures and pray more and I would feel better, God is so close to me and wants me to succeed, and read two talks from the past General Conference: "The Infinite Power of Hope" and "Come What May and Love It."  "Come What May and Love It"?  Really?  Yes, I just love cutting myself with a knife!  Yippee!  This message also said that hope was on the way!  OK, so the basic message is that I am sad because I am separated from God; to close the gap, I need to read scriptures and pray more.  I am not separated from God at all!  At.  All.  This is a mental illness, not a manifestation of my iniquity and how I've turned my back on God!

Most of the time, I feel unmotivated and blah.  Sometimes I have bursts of enthusiasm for something.  I noticed on facebook that my friends mostly update their statuses when they have something good to share, and I felt myself doing that.  I felt myself trying to find the good and put on that happy face for the world when I felt miserable.  So I just updated my status to say that I was unhappy, but that that was OK.  Well, one of the perky little pixies in my ward commented by saying, "Oh no!  I hope you feel better!  And then that will be even more OK!"  OK, sweetie, I think you're missing the point.  There is no "more OK."  How I feel is OK.  There is nothing wrong with how I feel, OK?  I don't need to be fixed.

People have skipped over "mourning with those that mourn" and "comforting those that stand in need of comfort."  They're just on automatic fix-it mode.  Lessons about trials always emphasize that we can get over them!  Yay!  But what beauty there is in having someone say, "I know your life sucks right now.  I'm sorry.  I'm here for you."  Gosh, that is so much better than having someone tell you exactly how to fix your problem (which really is being "separated from God.")  Let's please acknowledge that having trials doesn't mean you're doing something wrong.

Rivaling the usefulness of telling a depressed person to read scriptures and pray more is the idea that the trials are going to help you be SO MUCH STRONGER and that God KNOWS THAT YOU CAN HANDLE IT and TRUSTS YOU or else He wouldn't have "sent" this trial.  I was just browsing pieces of flair on facebook under the subject "depression" and found a pin that says, "God gives us tests because He knows we are strong enough to pass them."  1. That doesn't make me feel better.  2. Some sucky things are just life; God doesn't spend time picking and choosing what to afflict us with.  He is our father.  Yes, parents help you through trials and give you counsel.  But do they purposely afflict you with trials?  No.  Does the mom of a middle schooler call up a classmate and ask her to be especially catty to her daughter so that her daughter can learn valuable lessons from having a bully at school?  NO!  It doesn't help me to hear how much stronger I'm going to be at the end of this, because who knows when that's going to be?  And what about now?  What do I do about this now?  I found another flair pin that said, "If pain is weakness leaving the body, I must have superhuman strength."  Amen to that, brotha!  

I am sad, and that's OK.  Get off my case.

Peace out.