My name is Abbey, and there are a lot of unique things about me. First, I'm a right-brained learner. This basically means that I'm blessed with high imagination and cursed with anxiety. Second, I'm a Latter-Day Saint, who is amazed by the goodness of the Lord and all He does for me in my life. Third, I am an unschooler. The biggest lesson I learned from this education is to love learning and to pursue my passions. This blog is a collection of personal musings that will probably fall into one of these catogories. Thanks for visiting!


*All stamps courtesy of Mirz123

Sunday, August 26, 2012

The Forest In My Heart

Image by lucias-tears

I've been struggling with some anxious thought patterns these days and thought I'd share an interesting analogy that has emerged from it.  Every person has a forest in their heart.  I have one, too.  This forest is teeming with life, each creature and plant representing a part of myself.  Each tree is a skill that I'm developing.  Some are tall and sure, while others are still growing.  The birds are my dreams, the stream is my desire to explore the world, etc.  And flowers!  Flowers are everywhere.  My forest is a beautiful and personal place.  Or, at least it was.

When I developed an anxiety disorder, it felt like I was losing myself to its dark, twisted depths.  My passion and talents diminished, my confidence shattered, and my dreams were lost.  It felt like the forest in my heart was burning to the ground.
Image from www.erh.noaa.gov
Everything I had worked towards in the past twenty-two years of my life was gone.  There was nothing in my heart but smoldering pain and choking ashes.  I didn't know who I was anymore.  I was almost destroyed by it.

Maybe you have gone through a similar experience as this.  It's frightening to lose everything.  But the thing is, you haven't lost everything.  I thought I had, but in time, I caught little glimpses of myself shining through the anxiety.  It was like little sprouts pushing their way through the dirt and ash.  I was still in a lot of pain, and I had to redefine everything again, but I was willing to try.  I was willing to regrow the forest in my heart.  It wasn't easy.  It took a lot of work, a lot of pain, and a lot of time.  Today, my forest does not have the same majesty of my first forest.  But after everything I've learned about myself and anxiety, my forest fire was not a tragedy.  Just like in real life, a forest fire plays an important role.  The fire clears out dead brush and noxious weeds, giving new plants a chance to take their place.  The forest fire in my heart was purged of pride and false perceptions, allowing new and life-changing virtues to grow and flourish.  I can now say that I am a better woman because of anxiety.

The forest in my heart still has a long way to go.  The fire was necessary, but it certainly didn't feel good in the moment, and neither does the feeling of inadequacy that follows.  But despite the anxiety that plagues me day to day, I am still me, and I always will be.  My forest may still be lacking in many ways, but in time, flowers will grow again in the forest of my heart.

Monday, August 6, 2012

Check It Out! - The Spoon Theory

My mom shared an awesome analogy she found on a website called "But You Don't Look Sick."  It's a website intended to support Lupus, and the Spoon Theory is an analogy for Lupus, but I could immediately apply it to my anxiety disorder.  Please visit www.butyoudon'tlooksick.com to read the full article and check out the rest of the website!

 
It can be difficult for "normal" people to understand the daily struggles a person with a mental disability faces everyday.  Even I, back in my self-righteous and pre-anxious days, couldn't understand why people would let their mental disabilities get them down.  Eventually, I developed an anxiety disorder as well (wow, talk about karma).  NOW I understood what it was like.  All of my self-righteous judgments melted away.  But it pained me to know that there were still people out there who, like my old self, judged those with mental disabilities.  There are some people who even have the nerve to think that mental disabilities aren't real.  How can I explain what it's like to truly live with anxiety?  The answer came with the Spoon Theory!  Please, I earnestly invite you to read the full article here, but I'd also like to give the short version of the Spoon Theory with you.

Christine (the woman who came up with the theory) was at a restaurant with her friend.  Even though they had been friends for a long time, her friend asked what it was like to live with Lupus.  Christine grabbed all of the available spoons from their table and other nearby tables, put them in her friends hands, and said, “Here you go, you have Lupus."  The spoons represented the energy and effort one could expend in a day.  Most people have infinite amount of spoons, but her friend only had twelve.  Christine then instructed her friend to go through a typical workday.  As her friend said, "Get out of bed," Christine took one of the spoons.  Her friend said, "Take a shower," and Christine took away a spoon.  Before she had even gotten to work, half of her spoons were gone.  How was she going to make it through the work day?  And once she was back home, how could she then have the energy to do chores, laundry, and cook dinner?  Through this analogy, Christine really demonstrated how carefully one must use their energy accordingly when they suffer from Lupus.

Now, I will apply my anxiety disorder to the Spoon Theory.  When I wake up, I know I have to spend a certain amount of my limited spoons on my job.  When I come home, I might be able to do some chores, but if I had an especially hard time at work, I just don't have the "spoons" to do so.  If I have an anxiety attack during the day, I may no longer have enough "spoons" to work on my book or go out with friends, because dealing with anxiety attacks requires a lot of "spoons."  I must try my best to plan ahead of time how I will use my spoons so I can get the most out of my day.  Therefore, if someone asks me to do a big, unexpected favor for them, I might have a mental breakdown because I don't have enough "spoons" to handle the extra work.  The Spoon Theory is a great way for people to understand what living with a mental disability is like.  Even now, my mom and I talk about how many "spoons" we have or need or used up, and smile knowingly at each other.

Once again, I urge you to read the original Spoon Theory, because I just don't do it justice.  You will be glad you did.  :)  Do you or someone you know suffer from Lupus, a mental disability, or something else that makes their life difficult?  Share this with them!  It will make them smile and nod in total understanding.