We're OK.

Depression is kinda taboo… like most subjects in our society that aren’t easily understood or pretty.

Definition: Depression is more than just sadness. People with depression may experience a lack of interest and pleasure in daily activities, significant weight loss or gain, insomnia or excessive sleeping, lack of energy, inability to concentrate, feelings of worthlessness or excessive guilt and recurrent thoughts of death or suicide.

Research reports 22% of Americans over the age of 18 have been diagnosed with depression. That’s over 46 million people or 1 in 5 adults.

That’s huge! And I want to talk about it.

When I left home for college I had a difficult time transitioning. Every single part of experiencing a new phase of life, growing up, and figuring out who I was in the college environment was so confusing, so overwhelming, and downright miserable. I hated my college years. I had a difficult time making and maintaining friendships, I had no motivation to continue my 4.0 streak, I slept a lot, and cried a lot. During my Freshman year of Spring Break, I had an annual checkup appointment with my doctor and after some discussion, she prescribed me an anti-depressant to “ease the transition”.

Once the ‘weight gain’ side effects took place, I shelved the bottle and never thought about it again. If 19 year old Whitney was going to gain some lbs, she would have rather eaten some delicious food or skipped some workouts than take some pills. (27 year old Whitney would have felt the same)  :) You see, depression was explained to me as feelings of sadness and thoughts of suicide. Well, I didn’t always feel sad and I didn’t want to end my life so I thought surely I wasn’t really depressed, I just needed the right elements to feel fine. Needless to say, I transferred twice and went to three different colleges attempting to alleviate the “life transition depression”.

I wish I could say everything was better and that clarity ensued after graduation, however that certainly wasn’t the case. If I was juggling all the balls in college, I was letting them all fall to the ground after college.

My closest friends and family members were dumbfounded. What happened to the responsible, positive, go-getter from high school? Trust me, I was just as puzzled.

For me, responsible life felt crushing. Paying bills on time, getting the mail regularly, and going to work full time felt impossible. Imagine explaining that to someone…. They think you’re ridiculous. I couldn’t seem to ‘get it together’.

Those two or three years on my own were dicey. Getting up every day to do what I needed to do felt like wading through mud. I wasn’t always sad though and I still didn’t want to end my life as the well-known definition states. I just felt weighed down and I didn’t know why.

Fast forward to the early stages of my dating relationship with my (now) husband. If you want to magnify your flaws and weaknesses, live life with someone! Boy, were some of those phases hard-hitting!

….I was forced to realize that the “normal things” still felt more demanding than they should. And I was exhausted. Constantly tired. Again, I didn’t feel sad I just couldn’t shake off the sleepiness. After a full night of restful sleep, I could have slept the entire next day.

 
Convinced I had an iron deficiency or under performing thyroid, I went to the doctor. After a series of questions the doctor asked if I was depressed. I flashed back to my college and post college years and compared to that I surmised I was not depressed. He then gave me a written test to take. On paper: I was depressed.

You guys, I still didn’t feel sad or worthless or guilty. I didn’t have trouble eating or not eating. I still liked being around people and doing things. I was just tired; and normal responsibilities consumed A LOT of energy from me. I didn’t have a thyroid problem, I had a serotonin problem. That’s a thing.

After 6 weeks of taking the prescription, I felt like a whole new person. And since I’m not selling anti-depressants here, you should just believe me. All of a sudden I knew what it felt like to not need to sleep all the time, I had more energy, and daily responsibilities no longer felt like huge looming tasks. The weight or fog that had been with me for so long was barely there. That’s amazing.

It’s been almost two years. I still have bad days. I still get tired, overwhelmed, sad, and anxious… but that's life and it's now manageable.

As my understanding of depression deepens, I feel responsible to share. I went through many years feeling like something was “wrong” with me when it turns out my brain just was messing up some chemicals and it needed a slight tweak. I want mental health to be a topic the way high blood pressure or cholesterol is. I just want people to know they’re OK and normal even if they don’t really feel it. Just knowing wins the battle.

That time when Christian groups weren't

I am ticked.


I followed an account on Instagram called Proverbs Daily (http://proverbsdaily.net). I thoroughly enjoyed the one or two a day postings that were of creative photos and quotes of Bible verses and related encouragement.

Until now.

I woke up this morning and did my routine Instagram browse of recent postings. I do love Cats of Instagram and have an unhealthy obsession with the Kardashians… As I made my way scrolling down, I noticed two recent ProverbsDaily postings:

1.

“We support the better choice of two choices. Please vote the Bible, vote America, vote for redeeming America and bringing us back to the values that made us great. VOTE #RomneyRyan2012 #Romney #Ryan #President #Elections #Ryan2012 #2016Movie #BishopJackson #MittRomney #SaveAmerica #PROLIFE #HOPE #CHANGE #VOTE #Bible #ProverbsDaily “

2.

1.       #prochoice #yolo votethebible #election #prayer #causeofdeath #swag #death #prolife #romneyryan #roewade #mittromney #christian #proverbsdaily #amen #church #noobama #president #stopabortion #faith #bible #light #abortion #supremecourt #truth #youthgroup #gospel #stopobama #romney2012

Republican? That’s fine. Pro-Life? That’s fine. Those posts are not why I am bothered.
To be clear, I only comment on friends’ Instagram posts. I never tell Khloe her nails are cute or gush about Mason’s new outfit. But the juxtaposition of how much I enjoyed ProverbsDaily's previous posts and how opinionated I am about Jesus+politics caused my blood pressure to escalate and I began typing my response.

My response to the first post was plain and simple:

@ProverbsDaily, it is unfortunate that you are making a political PSA under this otherwise noble account. “…vote the Bible, vote America,… vote Romney” ? If you just read the book of Matthew it is clear that Jesus would have thought both political parties are bogus, especially the fiscal matters and foreign policy that Romney has supported. That doesn’t make it wrong, but it certainly doesn’t make it ‘voting the Bible’, as you say.

My second response was as straight forward as the first:

@ProverbsDaily Highlighting sins that YOU deem are worse than others while hashtagging “swag” “yolo” and “vote the bible” is not a fair representation of what the Bible is actually is about.


You can’t actually look up my responses because they were deleted, as well as all the other comments that agreed in response to mine. And I was blocked from continuing to follow ProverbsDaily on Instagram.

Now THAT’S what really gets me piqued. Aren’t discussions with differing opinions fruitful? No one knows the mind of God and healthy discussion with each other helps us to understand a little more than before. Being deleted and blocked because I don’t think that ‘voting Romney is voting the Bible’ or that I should be Pro-Life because, well, its swag-worthy and ya only live once is a poor representation of what Jesus was all about-- especially when you promote your account as sharing Biblical verses and inspiration.

I don’t have it all figured out and it is clear that Proverbs Daily doesn’t either. But in response to all of this I’ll leave you with my own hashtags... and feel free to pass along. ;)

#votesmart #votefair #votedemocracy #jesusisntdemocratorrepublican #jesuswasntarichwhitemale #jesushungwithsinners #ithinkjohnthebaptistwasahippie #dontdeletemycommentsorillblogaboutyoutaylorswiftstyle



Mawage Is What Bwings Us Together Today

I find that my lack of frequent posts is because I don't have the answers.

There are so many topics I want to blog about but I don't know how they end... or how to tie them up in a cute bow to offer the reader. Heck, you should see the Christmas presents I wrap. Neat little bows are not a part of my genetics.

However for this post I am fighting my deep urge to be Dr. Phil and and write about something I don't pretend to have figured out.

Marriage.


Lord willing, in five months, I will walk into a church as a single lady and walk out a wife. And there is no 'post engagement test' I have to take that will score my abilities or readiness....



In that hour I will unfortunately not have been given life's ultimate wisdom, I will not become miraculously mature, I will still not know how to cook, and I'll be just as selfish and emotionally dramatic as when I woke up that morning.

But I will be someone's wife. WIFE!!! What does that even mean? What are my roles and responsibilities? What is expected of me? The old, "To whom much is given, much is required", falls flat on me.

I don't mean to make blanket statements but it's fairly typical that our culture dates for awhile, starts itching for the ring, (because diamonds are pretty and that's just what you do) and then buys a kick- ass dress, and plans a huge expensive party.

And boy, do I have that covered.

Do you know what I don't have mastered? Healthful, fruitful, respectful, honoring relationship skills. Sure I love my fiance, we do eachother's laundry, we argue, we compromise, we mostly have the same dreams for our future... we are excited about the idea of being married...  But no one has asked us our reasons for why we are choosing marriage.
I mean really asked us.


Let me put it this over-used, exhasted, cliche way:

          Finishing a marathon is awesome! You muscles look hot, your facebook photos have street cred, you get to eat a million calories that day, people tell you how awesome they think you are. Sounds pretty good to me!    
But how does one get to that point?   A runner has to plan out: what shoes they need for their foot structure, what stretches their bodies need to incorporate before and after their runs, what pace to run on certain days to build endurance, how many carbs to eat, how much protein to eat, how much  sleep to get. ALL of these factors will determine whether a runner will successfully run the race, walk some of the race, crawl over the finish line, or give up on mile 15 because, well,  this shit is ridiculous.


I think that's a lot like being married....married, of course, the way marriage is intended.


I don't want to set out to run a marathon and end up walking the last five miles, or violently puke at mile 10 and quit, or train for a few months and give up because I'd rather sleep in on Saturday mornings than get up and run. If I set out to run a marathon I'm either gonna do it or I'm not; there are too many time investments and sacrifices at stake to not make it worth it.

And that's where I am right now. I'll be the first to confess I suck at being engaged. Over the last few months my main focus has been me. What makes me happy? What pisses me off? Or most frequently, what does my fiance do to make me upset and how does he need to change? How do we make this relationship pleasing to me?

This is not good. This is not getting me ready to flourish in my marriage. This will not prepare me to be the wife I am called to be.

I believe in the Biblical roots of and intention for marriage. God gives us eachother to love, respect, build up, challenge, be helpmates, and lay down our lives for one another. (And have lots of sex.) As much as I try to pick and choose which of those qualities I will be for that day, I know the key is to not only to be consistent, but to be consistent with a joyful heart. And that's counter-cultural! It's not human nature! It's HARD WORK! 

In other words, I wouldn't expect to run 26.2 miles because I once ran a 5k. My desire (and prayer) is that I'll  be further along in this process than where I am now...

...That I will walk down the aisle with an intentioned and prepared heart for my husband.


So here I am... 172 days away from Wifedom. May there be abundant grace and generous forgiveness along the way.





You're welcome:

                                                                Princess Bride- The Wedding

How little (and much) has changed in a year!

How little can be a good thing. I'm finally consistent!

But a year later, now less afraid of routine, less afraid of settling down... less afraid of growing up (which ultimately means I grew up a little, I suppose).

It's safe to say, the catalyst of all is that I'm getting married. Yikes! That's still weird interesting to say. This topic goes much deeper and I'm sure I'll get into it later, but I haven't gotten completely comfortable with the term marriage yet. So instead I define it as:

            "That guy I met who was the first mostly normal guy that I was ever attracted to... someone whom I daily admire because he is a very good and thoughtful person, someone with whom I've argued many a time, tested boundaries, learned how to comprimise, taught me to admit when I'm wrong and finally say I'm sorry, continuously accept my shortcomings and show me how they're strengths, teach me me to be loved and by default I've learned to love him when I'm not feeling particularly sweet, someone who has a lot of gas and doesn't try to hide it any more yet I'm still shamelessly attracted to him--- this guy I decided to spend the rest of my life with- for better or for worse- and I'm pretty stoked."

Mush, mush, mush. Call it what you want, but I still prefer that (long-winded) term.


Well that and it doesn't have anything to do the a current loaded term that does not recognize particular orientations...


BAM.

"I hate having my life disrupted by routine."

Routine-a-phobia


I fear the routine of waking up with the knowledge that I'll go to work, leave work, go home, clean up, eat dinner, watch something on television, and go to bed. Knowing that there is nothing else to expect that day is enough to make me slightly panic. Yet I drink coffee every morning, could eat the same thing for lunch every day, and take a shower every night before bed and think nothing of it.

I guess I hate knowing what I am going to do every day. It feels almost as intense as a phobia. I hate predictability of "normal" life yet depend very heavily on the predictability of the few things I have made 'normal' for my own life. I want options, don't want to be locked in, want freedom, and want creativity. Is there a way to translate this into functioning life or just something I need to rewire in my brain? Do I just need to chill out get a hobby?

Whatever this is exhausts relationships, friendships, even decisions- and the minute the exhaust sets in, I'm looking for the escape route.



In all, I am either particularly self-aware or excessively self-analytical.... or nuts. Just plain nuts :)

Growing up... and forward.

Adult. 

Well, to be or to not be has been the question. I recently turned twenty-five and have been entirely engulfed in my ability to define adulthood. Up until recently, I hadn’t thought too much about what it means to be an adult. I did know, however, that regardless of what it was, I most likely was far off.

In the previous post I mentioned that I wrote a self-reflection outlining the last few years of my life. This was included in a theater story-telling project about “beginnings”. As I wrote my story and revised, I realized that my twenties have been a series of attempts at beginning… beginning adulthood. College graduation, a relationship I thought would lead to marriage, corporate employment, home-ownership… you name it. At the age of twenty-five, all I had to show for these attempts was confusion… left-over puzzle pieces from different pictures. I came to the realization that adulthood may mean different things to different people. Maybe some of those aforementioned life experiences worked for some, maybe they didn’t. And that’s okay. My revelation lies in the ability to self-reflect, to be constantly refining my mind and my heart, to be committed to self improvement/ self-sacrifice, and make life choices accordingly.

"A child becomes an adult when he realizes that he has a right not only to be right but also to be wrong.”

And holy cow, is that difficult.

Just when I thought I was finally on top of this topic, I was thrown another curve ball this weekend. At Crossroads, Brian Tome discussed sacrifice. Sacrifice as a symbol of maturity and freedom… two ideas that I include in my perception of adulthood. He described sacrifice as a few things: not doing something though those around you are and seem to be doing just fine, and not keeping what you could keep/ giving without keeping count.

Pretty vague, eh?

When I heard this, my mind started to race; that description has infinite meaning and permeates throughout all of life. What am I doing or saying in normal behavior that is not necessarily beneficial, yet permissible? What am I accruing that I don’t necessarily need? How acutely aware am I of each time I give of myself to others?

As these questions began to multiply, I began to feel heaviness upon my shoulders. This sacrifice thing sounds like an asset to adulthood and to maturity… but to freedom? I’m already feeling weighed down by this and freedom is supposed to be, well, freeing. 

He went on to paint a picture of a fish in a bowl. A fish is seemingly constrained in a bowl… it has boundaries, limitations, has been forced to sacrifice its life outside the bowl. However, if you break the walls of the fishbowl and the fish goes free, it will surely die because the elements that give it life are no longer in reach. Freedom without borders isn't freedom, it's chaos and cumbersome.The fishbowl LOOKS like sacrifice, looks like harsh boundaries… but it actually provides the fish a freedom to be- and to live. 

* 

Yet another adulthood lesson… Boundaries, sacrifice, and modified life perspective may not help me climb the corporate ladder, walk down the aisle, or pay my mortgage but so far, seem to be paving the way to a certain type of clarity just as fervently.

Beginnings are messy.

I recently wrote a summary of self reflection roughly outlining the last five years of my life. As with most lives, I imagine the summary dons the shape of some temporal pattern that ostensibly illustrates hopeful beginnings and the inevitable shit holes that follow. Beginnings typically connote grace, hope, adventure… carte blanche. And this is why I liken beginning phases to unicorns: their existence is a neat thought: Oh! A small horse with a growth on its forehead; a fantastic new chance to be untouched by the past with zero obstacles ahead…

This perspective sounds jaded but looking back on the last five years of my life my beginnings have produced themselves in the following manners:  


Cue acknowledgment of a beginning—the idea is exciting yet immediately overshadowed by all the preceding crap that characterizes this as the beginning and any idea of fresh untouched creation is suddenly only a sporadic positive thought while you're desperately trying to get over the rest.


Cue the shit hole--  too much crap to realize you've gotten a second chance and you actually had an amazing opportunity to start anew and you missed it due to a thousand other distractions. 


This generally leads to feeling like you can never catch a break… and goodness have I ever felt that… and felt that… and lived that.


Despite my ignorance and self absorption I HAVE been given that new beginning. Note: Given is one thing, capitalizing on the gift is quite another. Thank God (literally). Most of the time, however, I am too stupid to actually submerse myself into this grace thing and end up missing out on way more than I actually even want to know (la la la ignorance la la ) So thank goodness for honest friends and family.


Thank YOU to those of you who have called me out for being selfish, oblivious, irresponsible, too content. Thank YOU for recognizing some of these beginnings for me and pushing me to actually look for the tiny horses with horns. Without the honesty I couldn't be a better me, and trust me, compared to the last year me, I'm pretty awesome right now.


Awesome. 


And here's my self challenge: drag my (most often self-induced) way too tired body out of bed in the morning and remind myself I am forgiven—and forgive myself… for not working out the day before, for paying a bill late, for operating out of fear, for hindering myself before even trying, for judging those different than me… for lying to people about watching sports just so they don't think I'm weird.  For anything. Because I am entitled to a new beginning whenever I am ready…. To do and think in fantastic, creative, adventurous ways because I can. I have been given a creative mind and the ability to give love and be loved.



Now THAT's a feat-- to live my life as if I actually believed those words...

THAT's the Beginning.