Just Like Piecing a Quilt

Healing is like making a quilt. 

A quilt starts off as bolts of different fabric in the store, perfectly content to be on the shelf. The fabric minds its own business until someone comes and cuts off a yard or two or three. Then the fabric is taken home where it is cut again into pieces of various sizes. The fabric may even wonder why it is being cut into smaller pieces.

The fabric doesn't know what pattern the quilter envisions, nor does it know the beautiful masterpiece it will become in the end. Sometimes, the quilt takes a bit of configuring if a piece isn't cut correctly or if the pieces don't fit quite right.

A lot of work, time and patience are required of the quilter as piece after piece is sewn together creating blocks. Assembling the pieces seems never ending. Blocks are remade if a piece was cut incorrectly. Mistakes are made, seams are ripped out and resewn. Blocks are rearranged until the perfect combination is found. Often, the original plan is changed a bit to create an even better masterpiece.

Then there is the intricate work of quilting the quilt, or sewing the quilt top, batting and back together. This can take a long time if done by hand. It's quite amazing to see a flat quilt top come to life as the tiny stitches add texture and compliment the quilt design.

As I chose these quilt pictures, I realized how long it took me to finish. I began piecing it in October 2013. I remember making the flying geese blocks (all the triangles) and cursing them because there were so many and because the sewing had to be perfect for all blocks to be straight. I finished the quilt top in February 2014 in time for my friend's baby shower. But it took me until August 2014 to quilt it by hand and finish the binding- just in time to enter it into the State Fair.  It was a labor of love and my favorite quilt I have made so far.

What does this have to do with healing? It's the same process. I think I'm in the sewing and seam ripping stage, where things feel worse as they are improving and the light seems like it will never return. But all hope is not lost! It is that same labor of love I need to put into myself. Work, time and patience are required for healing. I have faith that working through my depression will ultimately lead to the masterpiece of my life quilt that God has planned. I cannot see the outcome, but I know He can. I just have to hold onto that.

If you or someone you know needs help, visit this suicide prevention resources page.

If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or text “Hello” to 741-741.

Depression: My Unwanted Companion Part 2

Depression is a mental illness. Major Depression is one type and is defined by the National Institute of Mental Health as "severe symptoms that interfere with your ability to work, sleep, study, eat, and enjoy life."

Depression can have several symptoms. This time, I seem to have emotional extremes with no middle ground. I either have a good day where life feels normal, or I have a bad day where I am really sad, frustrated, angry, or anxious. (By "bad day", I mean a day where my depression is overpowering and outweighing everything else.) There have only been a few scary times when I felt completely empty. One of those times resulted in an overdose attempt, which is why those times are so scary to me.

There have been countless people who have supported and loved me through all of this whether I reached out to them or not. I am grateful for the friends who have stuck it out and haven't left me. The biggest paradox of my depression is the desire for isolation and desperate need for friends. I hesitate every time I reach out to someone, especially on the days I am most drawn into myself.

Because I know how difficult it is when a friend with depression reaches out to you, here are two recommendations on articles for what to say or not say to someone with depression: here and here.

When I reach out to someone during a panic attack or a bad day, I'm seeking reassurance that I am not alone and that I will survive whatever I am going through in that moment. Comments such as "I'm here" or "You will be okay" are the most helpful to me.

One of the side effects of my depression is I have become a very timid and shy little girl. As I said before, I often hesitate to reach out to someone because I feel like I am bothering them. I know I am not a bother, otherwise, the people I reach out to would have told me to get lost long ago. However, I still feel that way. I often push through it and still reach out, and sometimes, I don't. 

The hardest thing about feeling so timid is I often turn to only two or three people when I need help. The most common phrase I hear in some form or another is someone asking how they can help. I often won't ask for what I need because for whatever reason I think I just can't ask someone to help with that. Honestly, help with things like laundry, cooking, grocery shopping, and cleaning my room is what I need most, but I'm often too embarrassed, prideful, or I lack the energy to ask for what I need.

This isn't the end. One day at a time is all I can do for now. And that's okay.

Recommended posts from the To Write Love on Her Arms blog:

Five Lies Depression Told Me

For Those Who Have Stayed

But Your Life Isn't That Bad

Click to read Part 1.

If you or someone you know needs help, visit this suicide prevention resources page.

If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or text “Hello” to 741-741.

Depression: My Unwanted Companion Part 1

This is a really scary two part post for me, but it's one I've been thinking about for a while now. After reading a blog post today on the To Write Love on Her Arms blog asking people to share their stories before they are finished, I decided today was the day. Here is my story as it is being written.

I may have dealt with depression before this, but the first time I knew for sure I was struggling with depression was after my mom's stroke three years ago. Expecting to spend Christmas in Venice that year, I stopped in Washington to visit my parents before I was to leave. When I arrived in Washington, my dad and I went straight to the hospital to visit my mom who had gone in the day before. I learned my mom had had a stroke and changed my plans to stay in Washington to be there for my mom and dad. 

After spending nearly a month of taking care of my mom and being a support for my dad, I returned to Utah emotionally depleted. I had nothing left to give. I retreated into myself over the first few weeks I was home. I know I wasn't a pleasant roommate at the time. (Thank you for still being my friend after that Adri!) Reading became my refuge; I devoured book after book. I read 15 or so books in two months, which eventually led to my reading goal of 50 books that year. During this time, I also started therapy. I remember using a scene in a comic strip to describe how I felt to my therapist. I felt as if I was trapped in a dungeon much like the following scene from Rose is Rose by Don Wimmer and Pat Brady. 

Through the personal work I did in therapy and the constant love given to me by my friends, I eventually made my way out of that dungeon and stayed out for a long time.

Then 2015 happened.

This year has been one of the hardest years of my life. After dealing with constant panic attacks for the first half of the year and heartbreak, I managed to find myself back in my dark dungeon called depression. There wasn't an evident cause like last time, although my guess is it was again depletion depression. Anxiety and depression are two sides to a teeter-totter. They are often found together.

At first, I thought I was just dealing with homesickness because I had recently returned from a week of visiting my parents in Washington. But the sadness lingered and worsened. I retreated into myself and hid in my room. I think there was a week where my roommates didn't see me at all. I stopped going to church for several weeks and cancelled on plans with friends. Frankly, it's amazing I made it to work those weeks.

People began to notice and reach out to me, which I appreciated; however, I wasn't ready or willing to ask for help. I kept thinking things would improve as if by magic. They didn't. My depression started interfering with work and with my health. I stopped eating and didn't sleep well. I felt as though I was under an avalanche and the more I kept trying to get out from underneath it, the more it caved in on me. It was kind of like this Wile E Coyote clip:

Finally after about a month of trying it on my own, I admitted I needed help. I met with my bishop in one of the hardest interviews of my life. He put me in contact with a wonderful therapist two days later.

Continued in Part 2 

If you or someone you know needs help, visit this suicide prevention resources page.

If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or text “Hello” to 741-741.