Within the past week I have seen so many ducklings--babies just starting out. Friends are expecting babies. New life is springing up everywhere, even in the blossoms of the trees and the bulbs long forgotten during the winter shooting forth beautiful blooms of lavender and fuchsia. A new semester began and a new ward was formed, new friendships have been struck.
Everything is new! So much life has been breathed into the world! And yet... I have been witness to this new found life's fragility. Within the past week, I have seen two (though I am willing to believe there are more) dead ducklings. Just this evening, I may have even helped (or perhaps even doomed) a young sparrow to its final resting place.
While I was out blues dancing this weekend, a motorist crashed across University Avenue. Just in the past couple days I may have said or done something to cause a still young and blooming friendship to freeze and die away.
How fleeting! Who can say when something we thought would continue to live and breathe might be snuffed out, cut off from the life force that is pulsating from the breath of spring?
I wish I wouldn't take so much for granted. It hurts me in an intensely personal way when I see death.
When I was young, perhaps in my 8th grade year, my parents brought home a young kitten they had found outside of our church building prior to their going on their weekly date. They took the time to come back home, kitten in tow, and helped me find a box and warm blanket for it. They asked if I would mind watching over the sickly creature and advised me that it probably wouldn't make it through the night.
It was obviously invested with bugs, it must have been beaten up by some other creature for one of its eyes wasn't completely functional but my parents thought perhaps we could ease its way from the world.
I tended to the kitten for a good majority of the evening, holding its sick body close in a warm hand towel (for it was too tiny for an actual blanket) and I slept with its box beside my bed. Mom and Dad had brought some kitten food home for it and when it mewled in the morning, I carefully picked it up and carried it to the kitchen. It had made it through the night, more than I had expected. I set up the smallest dish we had so it could eat... and I watched it try--it wanted to try! But the anguish and hurt of its small body had been too much and I watched as it gasped out its last breath.
My heart broke in a way that day that hasn't really happened since. Yes. I have experienced the heart break of new loves dying out, friends leaving, even family members passing on. But to watch a creature die right before your eyes after all you could do... it is not an experience I wish on anyone.
The point is-- life, in all its forms, is fragile and fleeting. You never know how long you will have to experience it. So... experience it fully, full-steam ahead. Live. Live your life in such a way that you don't look back and say, "what if I had done/said that?" Do. Say. You may hurt others. You may hurt yourself. Be wise in your words and actions. I am not saying I am at all wise--for there are moments I certainly wish I had thought out at least a little more but then again I feel it is all really trial and error.
"It is both a blessing
And a curse
To feel everything
So very deeply."
d.j.
But I am glad that I feel deeply. It reminds me that I am alive. That I still have time to make moments--for "we remember not days but moments". So I challenge you to let yourself feel and remember to stop going through life ignoring the moments or the fragile things of life.
Feel.
Live.
P.S. The bird from earlier flew off when I went to go visit him just now. I think he may just make it.
19 May 2014
09 May 2014
The Struggle
Over the last few weeks I have been struggling within myself to accomplish a task.
A couple months ago, I was talking with my bishop about some things that had been making life hard for me--loneliness, feelings of inadequacy, terrible sleep... the list went on and on. After a short time, he asked if I had ever considered going to speak with a psychiatrist or counselor. I balked not believing my problems were serious enough to go to one. I looked at my problems as something caused by immaturity and a ridiculous perspective that were making mountains out of mole hills.
He said something that stuck with me however. Essentially he said that people go to a doctor when they are physically sick or having problems. Psychiatrists are doctors for people with emotional or mental challenges. If you're sick, won't you go to a doctor?
So I filed the advice away in the back of my mind for a while feeling relieved after talking to him and unloading my burdens for a while. Life seemed fine after that for a while--that was until I went home to Oregon to spend a short weekend with my family. The loneliness crept back in like a disease--nonsensical in its timing but all too real and suffocating.
I had just finished watching Frozen with my younger sister and was in the guest room laying in bed when suddenly I felt darker than I had in a long time. I couldn't understand it being surrounded by loved ones as I was I could not get rid of the feeling and only after exhausting myself through tears was I able to fall asleep at 5 or so in the morning.
When I woke up, I finally told my mom about my counsel from my bishop.
It had never occurred to me that I wasn't alone in these feelings of loneliness and the anxiety that came with them. Apparently, it runs in the family. So, with the support of my parents I asked my bishop for the contact information for the psychiatrist he had recommended to me some months earlier and gave it to my father who looked into the insurance--at least he tried. Since I am an "adult" it was up to me to talk to the insurance people to see if they would cover my doctor's visits. I get anxiety from making phone calls, understand. It took me four days after getting the information from my father to try calling the insurance. I successfully contacted one but they didn't cover the specific psychiatrist but they would cover 3 visits. I called the other contact to see if they covered the doctor I was looking at but the last two digits of the number had been reversed on accident and I called someone who was definitely not the insurance.
Telling my father this, he sent me the real number but, again, it took me a few days to finally just plunge in and call. The answer was the same but they would cover 4 visits.
However, upon closer inspection, both companies said they could only cover these visits if I was living part time at home... which I haven't done for about 3 years now. My parents and I agreed that we probably shouldn't lie about my living situation. So what did this mean?
I had to call the doctor's office and ask for pricing...
This occurred about two weeks before classes for the spring semester started... procrastination for the sake of my anxiety got the better of me and then suddenly, upon starting up two dance classes Mon-Thurs (only one of them happening on Friday) my spirit felt much happier. Dance is clearly something that helps me combat my problems, giving me a release and in return releasing what I assume are endorphins that make me feel happy. So of course, I started reasoning to myself that I needn't go in at all because I was no longer feeling those feelings and limitations that had instigated the talk of going into a psychiatrist in the first place.
However, I spoke with Mom last night and she reminded me that I couldn't dance through life and there will be times again when those feelings get the better of me unless I find out what is wrong with me and fix it--and what better time to do it than when I am feeling on top of everything else?
So, she had me promise I would call today--if I didn't get anything else done, just call. Get the estimates. Report back. And you know what? I did it. I did it.
Update: I am now waiting for them to call me back to help set up my appointment.
Most people usually keep these things to themselves but I felt a need to share my experience. Maybe there is someone else out there who is experiencing the same thing that needs to know that they are most definitely not alone. Maybe there are people out there who, in order to not misunderstand me, need to hear about the problems I struggle with every week.
I posted a status on facebook just yesterday addressing the fact that although I have struggles I have learned that it does not do to dwell negatively on the things around me, those things that affect me. If I allow the devil to suck away all my happiness that it would only leave me with despair and loneliness. I hope for a brighter day. I yearn for a life that I love to live. I fight to break through the darkness, to shine to those who might be close beside my bend in the road whose candles may have gone out and need to share a flame with me, no matter how briefly or otherwise the contact may be.
Keep smiling, keep laughing, keep loving, keep hugging, keep wishing, keep hoping--keep the faith, keep up your courage, look up into the world. You will make it through. The Lord is there for you as He is for me.
Be brave. Be true.
A couple months ago, I was talking with my bishop about some things that had been making life hard for me--loneliness, feelings of inadequacy, terrible sleep... the list went on and on. After a short time, he asked if I had ever considered going to speak with a psychiatrist or counselor. I balked not believing my problems were serious enough to go to one. I looked at my problems as something caused by immaturity and a ridiculous perspective that were making mountains out of mole hills.
He said something that stuck with me however. Essentially he said that people go to a doctor when they are physically sick or having problems. Psychiatrists are doctors for people with emotional or mental challenges. If you're sick, won't you go to a doctor?
So I filed the advice away in the back of my mind for a while feeling relieved after talking to him and unloading my burdens for a while. Life seemed fine after that for a while--that was until I went home to Oregon to spend a short weekend with my family. The loneliness crept back in like a disease--nonsensical in its timing but all too real and suffocating.
I had just finished watching Frozen with my younger sister and was in the guest room laying in bed when suddenly I felt darker than I had in a long time. I couldn't understand it being surrounded by loved ones as I was I could not get rid of the feeling and only after exhausting myself through tears was I able to fall asleep at 5 or so in the morning.
When I woke up, I finally told my mom about my counsel from my bishop.
It had never occurred to me that I wasn't alone in these feelings of loneliness and the anxiety that came with them. Apparently, it runs in the family. So, with the support of my parents I asked my bishop for the contact information for the psychiatrist he had recommended to me some months earlier and gave it to my father who looked into the insurance--at least he tried. Since I am an "adult" it was up to me to talk to the insurance people to see if they would cover my doctor's visits. I get anxiety from making phone calls, understand. It took me four days after getting the information from my father to try calling the insurance. I successfully contacted one but they didn't cover the specific psychiatrist but they would cover 3 visits. I called the other contact to see if they covered the doctor I was looking at but the last two digits of the number had been reversed on accident and I called someone who was definitely not the insurance.
Telling my father this, he sent me the real number but, again, it took me a few days to finally just plunge in and call. The answer was the same but they would cover 4 visits.
However, upon closer inspection, both companies said they could only cover these visits if I was living part time at home... which I haven't done for about 3 years now. My parents and I agreed that we probably shouldn't lie about my living situation. So what did this mean?
I had to call the doctor's office and ask for pricing...
This occurred about two weeks before classes for the spring semester started... procrastination for the sake of my anxiety got the better of me and then suddenly, upon starting up two dance classes Mon-Thurs (only one of them happening on Friday) my spirit felt much happier. Dance is clearly something that helps me combat my problems, giving me a release and in return releasing what I assume are endorphins that make me feel happy. So of course, I started reasoning to myself that I needn't go in at all because I was no longer feeling those feelings and limitations that had instigated the talk of going into a psychiatrist in the first place.
However, I spoke with Mom last night and she reminded me that I couldn't dance through life and there will be times again when those feelings get the better of me unless I find out what is wrong with me and fix it--and what better time to do it than when I am feeling on top of everything else?
So, she had me promise I would call today--if I didn't get anything else done, just call. Get the estimates. Report back. And you know what? I did it. I did it.
Update: I am now waiting for them to call me back to help set up my appointment.
Most people usually keep these things to themselves but I felt a need to share my experience. Maybe there is someone else out there who is experiencing the same thing that needs to know that they are most definitely not alone. Maybe there are people out there who, in order to not misunderstand me, need to hear about the problems I struggle with every week.
I posted a status on facebook just yesterday addressing the fact that although I have struggles I have learned that it does not do to dwell negatively on the things around me, those things that affect me. If I allow the devil to suck away all my happiness that it would only leave me with despair and loneliness. I hope for a brighter day. I yearn for a life that I love to live. I fight to break through the darkness, to shine to those who might be close beside my bend in the road whose candles may have gone out and need to share a flame with me, no matter how briefly or otherwise the contact may be.
Keep smiling, keep laughing, keep loving, keep hugging, keep wishing, keep hoping--keep the faith, keep up your courage, look up into the world. You will make it through. The Lord is there for you as He is for me.
Be brave. Be true.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)