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 am not ashamed.

On September 5th, I took my first antidepressant. I had been struggling with anxiety/depression almost every day for about three months. I had been working out regularly and eating pretty well, so I wasn’t sure why I was so anxious all the time.

Finally, after spending months trying to rule out certain things, I gave in.

I kept beating myself up because I was thinking it was something I was doing. Or wasn’t doing. So I went to the doctor.

Initially I didn’t want to.

I have grown up in the church. I have grown up surrounded by people telling me “not to claim it” when I’m sick. Or basically just feeling like I’m not believing hard enough if I’m not getting healed.

Don’t get me wrong. I am definitely a believer that God can heal. But I’m also a believer that God uses his children for healing. Including doctors. Including medicine. So instead of continuing to believe that medication meant I had failed, I went in and got some.

And you know what? It helped.

I had spent three months of my life, riddled with anxiety everyday. Losing myself in fear and panic. Getting depressed because I felt lost in this cycle of feeling good for a day and thinking I’d been healed only to wake up in a panic the next day.

Crying after a panic attack because I was so upset that it happened again. Asking people to pray for me almost daily. Crying out to God to fix me. To heal me. To help me.

All of this had ceased and I felt like I could breathe again. I could breathe. And I could be myself. People around me even started to notice that I seemed more like myself. Lighter.

All because of a tiny little pill made by someone whom God made.

Through this whole process, I was leading worship at my church. I was still walking with God. I was still a very strong believer.

And yet, word got back to me that someone I had trusted and told all this to, had told one of the pastors that they couldn't follow a worship leader that was on medication.

I share that not because I'm upset, but because sometimes when people get on medication, other people might question their credibility. Inside or outside the church.

And if you are one of those people who feel doubted and questioned, do not be discouraged or ashamed. There is nothing wrong with medication. There is nothing wrong with taking a step to help yourself. God does not condemn you. So don't listen to anyone else who tries to. 

But find the people who are going to love and support you through your process. The people you can run to when you have a bad day. The people who will always be praying for you. Find those people.

And never be ashamed.

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.