It's okay to not be okay

I think sometimes we forget that it’s okay to not be okay. 

I can remember so many times when I’ve had even a small breakdown and then I felt ashamed that I cried or couldn’t hold myself together. 

But I shouldn’t be ashamed, because it’s normal. 

It’s normal for things to seem overwhelming at times, or impossible. 

It’s normal to cry. 

It’s normal to feel out of control, even when you pride yourself on being in control all the time. 

The past couple of weeks for me have been this way.

Certain situations trigger my insecurities, and then all the emotions come flooding in. 

Thoughts like “I’m not good enough, beautiful enough, skinny enough.”

“I don’t do enough.”

So I breakdown. I get stuck in my head and basically have to ride it out. 

I’m not gonna lie, sometimes it’s hard being single when all you want is someone there who will hold you when you cry. 

It’s so hard for me because I sometimes take pride in being the stable one. The one that’s there for everyone and listens and holds people while they cry. But it’s so extremely insanely STUPIDLY difficult for me to ask anyone for help when I need it. 

In fact, I try to hide it. 

But I think having breakdowns and moving on should be normal. Just cry for a couple hours and get it out and then don’t beat yourself up about it, just keep living.

Two years ago when I was struggling with anxiety, I would basically have an attack everyday and then cry from shame afterwards because it happened again and I couldn’t control it. 

We aren’t meant to hold everything in. 

I’m sitting here watching Gilmore Girls. It’s an episode where Rory and Lorelei end up both having breakdowns at the same time and completely feel like they’re failing and can’t go on. As I was watching it hit me, they actually don’t address it at all after those scenes. 

They both had their breakdowns and then the next episode starts and they don’t even talk about it, they are back to normal. 

I’m not saying we shouldn’t address our breakdowns. Obviously if there’s an issue that is the common denominator in your breakdowns you should probably look into it. 

I’m saying that it’s okay to have a breakdown and move on. 

It’s okay to not be okay. But it’s also okay to be okay, after not having been okay two hours ago. 

I may just be speaking to myself here, but I hope this encourages someone. 

Don’t beat yourself up for having overwhelming feelings sometimes that have to come out as tears and ugly sobs. 

And I guess I’ll try to stop that too. 

I Will Laugh Again

I haven't written in a while and I think I just didn't really know what to say. The past few months have been filled with change, anxiety, sadness, excitement, and a lot of goodbyes.

Sometimes all of those things in the same day and even the same second if you would believe that.

Once we moved from The Station it was as if "goodbye" just became normal. And not even a "goodbye I'll see you tomorrow." They were goodbyes where friends moved back home, or to a different state.

I said goodbye to levels of friendship because we no longer had schedules that lined up and we couldn't hangout all the time.

I said goodbye to a dream I didn't even realize was a dream until it was over. Or paused.

I said goodbye to the most annoying yet most beautiful place to live ever. And it kills me to drive past it.

I held myself together for almost two months after we moved. I didn't cry. I didn't even think about it. I went about my business telling myself I was fine. It was fine. Everything is fine.

I guess pushing things down or away doesn't REALLY help. It just postpones the inevitable breakdown. It just shoves away the healthy reactions and they build up until one day you can't keep a lid on top anymore.

Honestly, I can't keep a lid on it anymore. I didn't take the time to let my feelings out as they came, and now I cry at anything. I think about the camp and I cry. I think about my mom and I cry. I think about being in Mammoth and I cry. Honestly ANYTHING.

And then I get annoyed at myself for crying. And then I cry more.

This may be one of the most vulnerable posts I have written. And I'm not even entirely sure if it's helpful. It's just what is.

I don't have answers, I just have the process and I have to keep moving. Because that's the only way to get through it.

I have to be okay with the fact that I cry every day. As long as I'm getting it out eventually it has to stop (fingers crossed). I have to be okay with where I am but I also need to have hope for where I am going and be okay with the actions I need to take to get there. Even if they are actions I never thought I would have to take.

It may take a good while, but there is a time for everything.

"a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance" Ecc 3:4.

I just need to keep moving. I need to keep pushing through, because one day I will laugh again.

Get The Hell Out

Recently a lot of stuff has been happening. By recently I mean, basically this whole fall into winter.

This past fall season, I took on more responsibilities at The Station.

Two new employees moved into the staff house and both were coincidentally in first year at the school of ministry.

Things seemed to be going good. Not too many hiccups.

Then Christmas break came. And all hell broke loose.

It seemed as though both of these people began making choices that didn't reflect a Godly lifestyle. 

If you know me at all, you know that I am not a very vocal person when it comes to my opinion or when I disagree with someone.

So all I did was sit back, and listen, and watch them break the camp rules.

I listened to the struggles. I listened to them both tell me that they didn't really get why there were such rules, and how they wanted to keep living in those lifestyles. Because they chose to keep living in those lifestyles, they ended up getting asked to leave The Station.

Eventually, the school of ministry pulled the plug on first year for them.

As all this is going on, I feel like I'm barely holding on to my sanity. Two people, that yes were making bad decisions, but I still shared life with were getting kicked out, or having the floor fall out from underneath them because the school was everything to them.

So I listened more. Still listening even though I had crap of my own that I was dealing with.

I got a dog. Wasn't ready. Took it back. Tried not to fall apart. Was pretty okay. Turned 25. Had a good day. Endured the worst winter I've ever imagined. Became one of the only employees at the camp besides the director. Wanted to quit my other job. Didn't quit my other job. Still want to quit my other job. Trying to find traction in my relationship with God. Hoping that I'm being stable enough for people to count on. Got sick. Fell apart on my boss. Had a mini breakdown. Hoped that it would go away on it's own. Feeling the weight of everything build up until I couldn't take it anymore. I needed help. Prayed that God would restore my joy. God restored my joy. Someone asked me what was wrong. Started feeling like something was actually wrong when I thought I was fine.

So much has been going on in my life, and I'm still trying to find out how to process it all.

I think that there are so many lies that I keep letting into my heart, and then I keep believing them.

So here is goes. I'm going to speak truth.

It was not my fault. I did not make them make those choices.

I am strong enough to hold down the fort, despite everyone else around me falling apart and making stupid decisions.

I am stable. You can be stable and still sometimes need to cry. It's totally normal and a part of life.

I am steadfast. I can be trusted. I can be there for people. I can be counted on.

I am beautiful. I am wanted. I am home for people. I have a mothers heart. I am a daughter of the king. I am a warrior.

So here's what I say to all the lies.

The doubts. The anxiety. The depression. The fear. The second guessing myself. The little tiny things that sneak into my mind and make me feel like I'm not good enough just as I am.

Get the hell out.

My Orphan Heart Has Found Its Home

Attending the Mammoth Lakes School of Supernatural Ministry has probably been the hardest step that I have ever had to take, but by far the best. Our current reading assignment is "Spiritual Slavery to Spiritual Sonship" by Jack Frost.

I hadn't started reading the book until this evening, and I'm somewhat glad that I didn't.

Last week, I got into an accident in the snow. My first time taking on icy roads obviously didn't turn out well. But my friend/fellow student and I were perfectly fine and no other cars were involved.

With that said, it's been a tough week.

I have had car troubles in the past, many times, and every single time it's felt like one of my limbs has been ripped off and I'm left grasping for what the heck I'm going to do.

This week has been difficult in the fact that I've started training in a new job, and I have school every day. It doesn't help that I can't necessarily walk because it's always freezing outside and there's snow everywhere.

Everyday since my car accident last Monday, I have needed to get a ride from someone. Whether it be my roommate, classmate, coworker, etc. But I have had one of the hardest times asking for help.

I grew up feeling somewhat alone a lot so I became kind of dependent on myself. You could probably ask anybody, but I'm just an independent person. I'm the one that likes to volunteer to drive and I never enjoy feeling stuck because I'm waiting on somebody else.

Just this morning I opened up to my boss about the whole situation and how I was chomping at the bit for my car to get fixed and I could drive myself again. I told her that I felt that God was working in my life even when it felt like nothing good could be happening right now. I have never really felt okay asking for help. I've always told myself that I didn't want to be a burden, and because of that I never asked, I try to stay out of the way and I don't draw attention to myself.

So because I have to keep depending on people and asking for rides and even asking for food from my roommates, I feel that insecurity rising up in me. I feel like at any second one of them is going to express annoyance at my not being able to take care of myself. As that insecurity came rising up, I felt God whispering to me "you are a blessing, not a burden."

I made this revelation this morning, and then I cracked open this book.

Jack Frost talks about how all of us are born with "orphan hearts" that reject parental authority and seek to do everything their own way. Sometimes we are raised and our parents unintentionally (sometimes not) hurt or reject us, and because of that we view God's love that way and don't want to see ourselves as His son or daughter.

If I didn't already associate with this, I did when I found this passage (bare with me):

When wanting to cast out an orphan heart, remember that you can displace it only by introducing it to a loving Father. Even then, an orphan heart must choose to embrace the spirit of sonship by willingly becoming interdependent in relationships and embracing God's community of love. This is not a once-and-for-all choice. You choose sonship over and over because orphan thinking doesn't surrender easily, and it often comes back and tries to assert its influence once again. The orphan spirit tries constantly to weaken our families, relationships, and the nations by deceiving us into becoming subject to our own mission rather than living life to experience God's love and to give it away.

We are called to live in interdependent relationships and embrace God's community of love.

I have lived my life independently because it seemed easier. It seemed that if I took care of myself and did my own thing I wouldn't get hurt. I never allowed myself to belong because it was too big of a risk.

"I am a blessing, not a burden."

Here I am, living in a house with another girl and three boys and I feel at home, for probably the first time in my life.

I have a family that doesn't see me as a burden, not that I felt my real family thought that, but this is the place where I finally believe that I'm not.

I am not a burden. I am not an orphan.

God's love has become so real to me in the past month, but even more so in the past ten minutes of reading this book.

I am a daughter of the king. I accept my spiritual "sonship" and I choose God's will instead of my own independent ways.

I was born with an orphan heart.

But now my orphan heart has found its home.

Not Afraid.

On July 12th, I set out to Mammoth Lakes, CA to begin a road trip with my friend. This probably seems normal to everyone who knew I was leaving on a road trip, but only a handful of people know that I left a day early. I left early because life in Hollister just became too much.

Family drama. Falling into old habits. Anxiety that got so bad it drove me to suicidal thoughts. Well. One. It would be easier if I wasn't here.

Even as I right this, I'm tearing up at remembering how helpless and sick I felt being there.

I couldn't stand up for myself.

I wasn't doing anything I loved.

I wasn't healthy. I was being enabled. And codependent.

If you want to see someone get truly depressed, just put them in a place they don't like, doing something they don't love, and have them completely isolated from any meaningful relationships.

That was me.

So when I arrived at the wonderful camp that is The Station, it felt like an immediate 180.

I came here for three days before we left on our trip and volunteered in the kitchen.

Something as simple as setting up tables made me feel like I was doing something meaningful again.

I felt like there was purpose again.

And instead of getting anxiety for thinking nothing was ever going to happen for me, I got nervous because I knew it was going to.

So I stayed.

---

This weekend I had the opportunity to go home to Hollister.

The city that it probably seems like I just disappeared from.

I went to a going away party for a couple that I've known since highschool and beyond.

Our pastor encouraged them with words about their future, and how no matter what happens they shouldn't be afraid because God will always be by their side.

Almost everything that was said in encouragement for them, I felt as though God was whispering it to me.

That he was telling me that life is going to be okay.

Life isn't going to be easy by a long shot, but it's all going to be okay. And that I needn't be scared.

---

That night brought so much healing for me.

I got to hug those that I thought might have been hurt by me just up and leaving.

I got to pray for friends, and joke with acquaintances.

I got to actually, for once in my life, tell people that I've been happy. I didn't have to say "I've been okay." or "Things are fine."

I told people what I've been up to and it wasn't as excruciating as it usually is.

I went in with anxiety, scared that I would be shunned, or made to feel bad about my choices.

I left feeling encouraged. My family in Hollister still loves me, and to be honest my insecurities were the only thing to make me believe anything else.

I left that night knowing that I shouldn't be afraid for my future. I'm going to make mistakes, and I'm going to stumble.

Probably a lot.

But God says it'll be okay.

---

Now I can think of myself charging forward into my future with God by my side.

And I'm not afraid.

Sometimes the hardest part of life is admitting you're scared as hell..

Growing up I used to think that there would be a point in my life where I would arrive. I would have a good job doing what I love.

I would have my own place (not realistic anymore).

I would have my group of friends that hung out all the time and encouraged each other.

I would have a good position in a church, doing what I was made to do.

I would have my music, and eventually have my own album recorded.

The minute I graduated from college, I knew that none of this would probably happen as I wanted it.

It took me two full months to get a job, at a donut shop.

I moved into a house with five other girls a month later.

I didn't really have any close friends once school picked back up again because they were all busy.

I took over as worship leader at a church, where I sometimes felt unappreciated, overworked and burnt out.

I did record a small cd, with somewhat terrible quality.

Then when it came time to start paying off my student loans, I knew my current situation wasn't going to cut it.

So I moved home.

Into my old room.

Into old habits.

Into old friendships.

Into my old self who let other people walk all over her.

If you've read my blog at any point before this, you probably read that I had an opportunity to work at a camp I grew up at. I was so excited and so nervous to go up there and be in a different place. But it was going to be worth it because I would be doing the things that I love.

I had tried emailing the director two times to ask when I should make the trip up there.

Today he finally emailed me back. He told me that they just got done laying off two people and he's still waiting to see how things will work out. Also, that he'll give me an update in the next two weeks. In the mean time, I've already given notice at my job. I already have all of July planned out with last minute trips, spending most of my money on traveling before I move up there. And now it's not a for sure thing anymore?

I read the email at work sinking further down into my chair as I filled with anxiety thinking about what the hell else I'm supposed to do if I don't get this job. The job that was a trial position in the first place. A job that I was going out on a limb to even take, because I decided I was going to have faith that everything was going to work out and I would get hired on permanently after the trial period was over.

There hasn't been a day in the past six months of being home that I haven't regretted it. Moving home.

I've loved pouring into good friendships since being home, and I don't regret that.

But honestly. I'm just scared as hell.

I'm scared that I moved home and now I'll be stuck.

I'm scared that I'll never be able to travel like I want to.

I'm scared that I'll never be able to move some place random and start my life the way I truly want to.

I'm just scared. Of everything. Of failure in life.

And I don't know what to do.

I want to be back in college with my friends. In close proximity where we could all talk to each other and encourage each other. I miss it so much. I miss my dear friends.

I wish that life wasn't so hard.

I wish being an adult wasn't so scary.

I have become the most anxiety ridden I have ever been since moving home.

I'm praying so hard that God will direct my path. I trust that he has great things for me, things that my ideas can't even measure up to. All I want is to be free. Free of expectations. Free of anxiety and hurt. Free of debt. Free of hatred towards myself for not being able to handle anything. I want to be free of all of these things, but mostly my fear.

I want to walk through life confident that I can do this. I have God right beside me and there is no way he is going to let me fall.

It Was a Simpler Time

It's crazy how being an adult can put so much stress on a person. I can remember being in high school and I had homework to do and I had commitments, but I hung out on Myspace daily and always had my friends over.

These days, I go to work and then come home and watch tv and hangout on Tumblr all night. Sometimes I write, or play music, or read.

But mostly I'm on the computer.

And yet, I'm more stressed out than I was even two years ago.

How is it that with age comes more stress?

Today I took a trip down memory lane and went through all of my old pictures.

Boy was that a terrible idea.

For one thing I was skinnier back then.

I just kept passing over pictures of friends and I hanging out at parks, or camps, and at school.

Things were structured but they weren't.

We had summer. We had winter break.

We had all these things that we had to look forward to.

I'm sitting here looking forward to an email. An EMAIL.

I look forward to the weekend, and then on Saturday I already start dreading Monday.

I feel like I've had nothing to look forward to lately.

The only thing I look forward to is hanging out with people.

Which, I'm starting to think is more important. Really it's all there is.

I get so nostalgic looking at old pictures because they were taken with friends. With people that I love.

You grow up hanging out with everyone so often because it's convenient. They go to school with you, or live down the block.

Then you go to college and you have your roommates and quadmates and they're always there.

You are so surrounded with all of these people that you love and that love you and support you.

Then you become an adult. And it all somewhat falls apart.

Your friends disperse. To different cities. Different states.

Life becomes about working, and making a living and paying bills.

Soon you don't have time to try and make an effort to see people.

That was the biggest slap in the face.

Having all these people surround you, and you promise each other that you will always be friends and that you'll talk all the time. And then you don't.

Out of sight becomes out of mind.

I am so guilty of this.

Then when you don't talk to anyone, you feel alone, then you feel like you can't talk to them.

So you don't tell them anything, because you can't lie and say that you're fine anymore.

It's so hard to grow up. It's hard to have things change.

It's getting so difficult to look back on memories and not be jealous of my younger self.

It's now almost impossible for me to see myself then and not be furious at myself for taking those times for granted.

It was a simpler time.

When You've Hit Bottom

I've always heard that it's good when you've hit rock bottom, because then there's nowhere to go but up. But what people don't tell you, is that when you're at rock bottom how crippling it actually is.

You don't feel enlightened because you can see up and see that life will be so much better after this point.

It just feels like it's not going to end.

Today, I may have hit my rock bottom.

Recently I've been struggling with anxiety a lot.

Mainly because I feel as though my life is going no where and I'm basically letting people make decisions for me.

I don't stand up for myself, I don't confront people when they hurt me, and I definitely don't initiate my future.

Today I woke up with the worst thought that I have ever had in my entire life.

It would be so much easier if I wasn't here. Honestly.

I sat on my bed with tears running down my face trying to wrap my head around getting ready for work whilst basically having an anxiety attack.

I felt like i couldn't fully breathe and I began writing in my journal, about how scared I was.

I've never in my life have I had a thought that dark. Twisted maybe, but never to the extent that taking my own life would somehow make my life easier. It scared the shit out of me.

So as I was writing, basically screaming into my journal, I begged from my heart for God to help me through this, to help me breathe.

Then something happened, a spark you could say, that ignited this fight in my heart. I was pissed.

I'm still pissed.

So pissed that I let the comments, and judgements of others contemplate my healthy mindset.

So very angry that I somehow let myself get isolated enough to think that I had to settle for this.

That I had to settle for someone treating me this way and that there was no way out.

No. No. No. NO.

I am mad.

I am mad that I have allowed this to happen to me. That I have allowed things to get this far because I'm afraid of hurting someones feelings by telling them that they've hurt mine. NO.

I am mad, that I gave up. I gave up living on my own with good friends to come home and be stuck and be pushed around.

I am mad that people never tell you how hard life really is, and then it's a complete culture shock when you start having to make your own decisions when no one let you before.

I am angry. That I feel as though my dreams aren't good enough, or that I am not good enough to achieve them.

Just no.

This was my rock bottom. But I let it come to this.

If me being completely angry and pissed off at the world is going to set me into motion, then lets have it. Bring on the internal flame that will burn in my belly.

Bring on the purification of my life by fire and the ripping up of roots that must split apart to be healthy.

I am ready to move on, finally from this place I have let my heart live.

I'm ready to move on. I've hit my rock bottom, and I don't know how long I will be here, but I know that I will not sit down here doing nothing.

"I'm Fine"

Sometimes I retreat. 

Sometimes I withdraw. One of my teachers has called me out on this a couple of times. He told me he noticed that when we were doing a group project I shut down and didn't give any further input.

You see, everything around me can be so overwhelming that I have to just shut down my mind sometimes. Otherwise, well, I don't know what will happen. 

I get emotionally drained. For some reason this has been happening more often that it did before. 

I've been finding myself trying so hard to stay awake and participate in class. I've gotten enough sleep. I shouldn't be tired. 

I think that I struggle with anxiety. This has been a long time coming to admit this, but I truly think I do. 

I get self-conscious about everything, and for some reason this makes me tense up, or it makes me feel as though I need to be put together all the time. I worry about what people will think of me. I also worry about certain outcomes from things that haven't even come into play yet.

Sometimes it's all just too much. 

I don't really tell people much about the tough parts of my life though. Maybe because I feel as though they are insignificant compared to other people's issues, or that it makes me seem weak. 

Even now I feel as though I have too much to handle. 

But you'll never know. Because I won't bring it up. 

I won't bring up the fact that I feel like crying a lot of the time attention is drawn to me. Especially if it's negative.

I won't tell anyone that speaking in front of people makes me so nervous sometimes that I could literally go to bed after and sleep for days. 

I won't tell anyone that the future legitimately scares the hell out of me and I don't know what to do when I graduate.

Sometimes I get so drained and all I want is for someone just to hug me. I want them to know that something is wrong, and to just hug me and tell me that it's going to be alright. To hold me and let me feel it all at once, rather than stuff it down for the seventh week in a row.

But people won't know. Because I hide it. Or brush it off as a joke. Or say that I'm just tired.

People don't truly know what they are in for when they ask if I'm okay. 

I avoid it all. I say I'm fine.