Monday

Monday was a low point for me. It marked 6 weeks since my anxiety episode started. 6 weeks since I had restarted the anti-anxiety meds. When you start anxiety/depression meds, they caution you that you may see improvements after a couple weeks but the medicine doesn't reach full potency until 4-6 weeks. I was better than week 1, but still needing to spend hours on the couch each day drifting in and out of consciousness to deal with the scary anxious thoughts and gut sickness. Was this the new norm for the rest of my life?!

I had to cry.

I called my mom.

I sobbed and sobbed out loud to her. I poured out all my fears and frustration. 

She listened, she loved, she reassured, she bore testimony, and she reignited hope that things will indeed change. Things will get better. 

I still felt anxious and my gut still hated me, but there was hope again.

I hung up with my mom and sobbed to Bobby, too. I told him my scary anxious thoughts and he reassured me that they were NOT consistent with reality. A little more hope. 

I sobbed on my bed all alone. I wanted to wail and cry out loud. I've never felt that before. I prayed silently. Then I remembered something that my mother-in-law had written to Alex. She said, "God can bless you in other ways. He can send a guardian angel to be near you in times of trouble. Who would he send? Probably a relative who understands your problems. I have felt the strength of people who love me who have died. They can bring peace to your heart and help you make wise decisions." I prayed for a guardian angel to help me. Someone came. I felt them.

I stopped crying. I could think clearly enough to form a plan: I would call my doctor to re-assess my meds, I would find a way to serve other people while hurting on the couch, and I wouldn't give up hope. 

Tuesday, I felt a little better. Still anxious, still physically miserable, but I was able to to run errands and do family history research while on the couch. I met with my doctor. He prescribed an additional med in a very low dose to help further with the anxiety. 

Wednesday, today, I feel better than I have in a long while. I can eat more normally. The obsessive thoughts are quieter and easier to ignore. I have energy to do more than the bare minimum. 

I'm okay.

I don't know what tomorrow will bring, but I'm okay right now. Heavenly Father is aware of me. He loves me. I have a loving, supportive family and competent medical professionals on my side. This will get better.

Introducing Alex

Dear family and friends,

Eight weeks ago, Alice got her ears pierced and selected a spiffy new haircut for her soon-to-begin high school adventure. A couple weeks later, she let us know that she hasn't felt comfortable in her body for some time. Her female body feels foreign and wrong (gender dysphoria) and she wants to live here on out as a male. With those feelings in mind, she has carefully and respectfully asked that people call her Alex from now on. She would also prefer the pronouns he/him/his instead of she/her/hers, so I will use those pronouns to refer to him on this blog starting now. This news was a considerable shock to us, but his feelings are real, and we are working to make him more comfortable in his skin.

I'd like you to meet Alex.

 

We love Alex. He's an important part of our family and our lives. The months before he came out to us were kinda dark. He isolated himself. He experienced increased depression and anxiety. Now that he's out and feels safe at home, we have our extroverted, hilarious, warm, and clever child back in our lives. I love him so much*. 

It's an ongoing adjustment for all of us** but Alex doesn't mind answering questions about his transgender feelings. I don't mind answering questions, either. I don't have all the answers, but I find it's much easier to deal with stressful changes in life when I'm open about it and actively learning. Alex has given me permission to share this information on the blog.

Alex is not Alice, but they have a lot in common. Alex is obsessed with the Marvel Cinematic Universe and sketch comedy and Funko Pops. He's doing well in 9th grade so far, enjoying a wide variety of classes and extracurricular activities. He auditioned for A Cappella Choir and got in. He auditioned for the fall musical and got a speaking part, which is apparently awesome for a freshman (someone in theater had to tell me that. I'm TOTALLY new to all this drama/theater/performance stuff!). He plays flute, loves reading and creative writing, and plans to be an actor. He's also taking a few parenting and child development classes this year because he's so darn good at nurturing kids and just plain loves it. 

When trans kids take on a new name, the old name is referred to as their "dead name". In some ways, the Alice I've known for 14 years is dead. The future I imagined for her is certainly gone. Feelings of grief and loss are normal. To Alex, he's finally becoming his true self and this "Alice" is a foreign stranger. A completely different person. 

I want to share something personal here. Alex's transition reminded me of the day after Alice was born. I had carried this baby for nine months, feeling her move and kick and squirm, having imagined conversations with her, envisioning her as this perfectly content little friend in my belly who understood me and laughed at all my jokes. Bobby and I playfully called her Barriga (pronounced buh-HEE-ga, which is Portuguese for "belly"). The day after Alice was born, I lost Barriga. I had a beautiful, bright little baby Alice that I loved more fiercely than I had ever loved anyone or anything before, but my wriggly and content constant companion was gone. I loved them both. I mourned the loss of Barriga and I cried for her. Just like I cry for Alice now. Seeing Alice's name and old pictures reminds me that I've lost a daughter. It's painful. And while the baby I carried and the daughter I nurtured and the teenager I adore are in reality the same person, my dreams and visions and expectations for each of them have had to change. I mourn the loss of those dreams and expectations. 

And just as I came to develop a new, powerful, and fierce love for Alice, I can feel a deep, intense, and eternal love for Alex. My hopes and dreams for him do not diminish my love for Alice. Nor do my hopes and dreams for Alice diminish my love for Alex. I love them both. They are both my children.

Alex is upbeat and hopeful for the future. He has supportive friends, family, and mentors. I'm hopeful for the future, too. I understand if Alex's news comes as a shock to you. I totally get it if you need time to process this. And I understand if it makes you uncomfortable. That's okay. This hasn't been particularly comfortable for any of us, especially Alex, but we're working on it together. One day at a time. If you'd like to reach out to him or me with questions, please do. Your questions help me process and understand my own feelings better :) You can contact me via email or text. I'll respond.

Much love,

Susan

 

 

*understatement of the year. 

**another remarkable understatement. We've cried, we've mourned, we've learned a whole new vocabulary, we've laughed, we've asked questions and had long, frank discussions, we've sought priesthood blessings, we've seen miracles and felt the tender mercies of the Lord, we've seen an outpouring of love from local friends and church leaders, we've connected with trans therapists and support groups, we've come a long way in 6 weeks, and we continue to take this one day at a time.

Jury Duty

While the emotional and physical symptoms of my recent anxious episode haven't completely subsided, this week has been noticeably better. I was feeling almost normal by lunch time today! That is a beautiful, marvelous, miraculous feeling after 5 weeks on the couch. Thank you for your prayers and thoughts and support. This is why I share my life with all y'all. You make things better. 

In other news, I've had jury duty for the last two weeks. Not ideal when you feel like throwing up or running to the bathroom every half hour, but with lots of prayer and careful planning and just plain luck, I made it. I even sat on a jury! The trial ended before we got to deliberate, but it was an educational experience all the same. I spent hours and hours with the other members of the jury, chatting and solving crossword puzzles while we waited in the jury room for the lawyers and judge to sort out all the motions we weren't allowed to hear. I feel a kinship with my fellow jurors, but I don't know any of their names. Heck, I don't even know what the bottom half of their faces look like. We were all masked the entire time. The defendant was acquitted because the state's case lacked sufficient burden of proof.

I was *this* close to getting placed on another jury today, but the prosecutor didn't like my answer to his question about whether or not some illegal drugs should remain illegal indefinitely. That's okay. I'm not taking any of this personally.

Not bad for my first term of jury service ever! 

When I wasn't in the courtroom or the jury room, I was waiting downstairs in the Jury Assembly Room reading several very uplifting books to help me sort out other issues in my life right now. If I had been home on the couch instead, I wouldn't have forced myself to read the books. Jury duty was a blessing in this case, and I'm grateful for that :)

That's My Family!

Okay, Aubrey came over and took a MUCH better picture of our family. She was even patient and skilled enough to take a picture when R and J weren't doing their typical "American Gothic" grouch faces. Silly boys. I love it!!

Recent Family Photo

Here's our most recent family photo. Matthew needed a picture of his family for a 1st grade social studies presentation. I just asked our neighbor across the street to come over and snap it with my cell phone, so it's not the best quality. I should have asked Aubrey to do it!! I'll ask her to come by soon to take a better one.

You can see the two kids who have cut their hair short :) but you can't see my long hair because it's tied up in a bun.

Bad Day

Today was an unusually bad anxiety day for me. I felt sick to my stomach and my mind was scared, on-edge, and irritable. Peaks of anxiety came and went again and again at even small things like doors opening or my phone getting a text message or Bobby clearing his throat. The anxiety starts in the middle of my abdomen, spreads out into a flush of heat all over my body that makes me sweat, my heart rate and blood pressure go up, my respiration increases, and my mind is just filled with fear. Fear of everything and nothing. Then my gut hurts a little worse and I feel the urge to use the bathroom, but I know from experience that nothing will come. The worst of the wave lasts for 20 seconds or so, but it never really goes away entirely. It's exhausting. It makes me pretty tired. 

I forced myself to move around the house this morning, tidying things. I forced myself to make a grocery order, even though everything on the list made the nausea feel worse. I forced myself to attend Jury Duty Orientation online. I forced myself to load the dishwasher. I forced myself to get dressed, brush my hair, put in contacts, and brush my teeth. I didn't have to force myself to read scriptures and pray, though, that is often the only piece of my morning routine that brings relief. But by 10am, I was completely wasted. I spent the rest of the school day on the couch drifting in and out of consciousness. By 3pm, I could be functional for the kids. We buried Matthew's pet chicken, Pecky Coconut, who had died in her sleep the night before. Everyone took that news pretty well. I helped Matthew practice the piano. He and I played Battleship. I took some of the kids to Curtis Orchard to pick up fresh cider and apple cider doughnuts for our Monday Night Fun activity tonight. After dinner, we used Bobby's new Dremel to carve out a wooden headstone for Pecky's grave.

Right now, I feel totally normal. Somewhere between the dinner bell and my bedtime, the nausea and anxiety tend to dissipate. I can smile again. Some days, the anxiety lifts earlier. One day, it didn't lift at all. 

In the midst of the anxiety today, I saw myself lying on the couch and it was very, very easy to get discouraged. It felt like things would never change. My mind swung from terror to utter despair to watchful vigilance to the cusp of a deep, deep depression. I pulled myself away from the edge with this phrase, "It's just the anxiety making you feel this way." And that's true. I am so blessed that my evenings are almost anxiety-free because I can point to the night before and say, "I felt normal then. I will feel normal again."

I'm blessed to have a supportive ward family. My ministering sister has begun visiting me every week through this period of anxiety. She checks up on me and genuinely cares for me. We had a ministering visit from Brother Miller on Sunday and that was a real spiritual boost for me, too.

So much has happened over the last month and I have not felt well enough to record any of it here. I'll throw a few headlines out there now and maybe I'll get around to telling the whole story another time.

Two kids cut their hair significantly shorter and my hair has never been longer.

Robert tested into a 7th grade math class and decided to make the move up once he learned his friends would be doing it, too. 

James has grown a lot taller and thinner.

Matthew STILL hasn't lost any baby teeth. Not a single wiggle. 

I was released from the Primary Presidency last week. No new calling yet. The bishopric member who released me said that the bishopric is considering me for several callings, but the Lord hasn't made it clear yet that any of them are the right fit. I'm okay with a break, when I'm not in the thick of my anxiety. My mind comes up with all sorts of worst case reasons when it's blinded by anxiety. I can't begin to tell you how much I've had to rely on faith and hope these last few weeks. 

I had to back out of a couple 50-mile bike rides with my friend Rachel this month, but she was able to find a new partner last-minute. Yay! I'll be a couple states behind on our "50 miles, 50 states, by age 50" goal. Sigh. Thankfully, I've got a couple extra years than Rachel does to accomplish it ;)

Robert looks forward to school every day. Middle school makes him feel so grown up. He officially large enough to sit in the front seat safely. It won't be much longer before he's our tallest child, though James will surely give him a run for his money.

Seminary is way better now than when I was taking it in 9th grade. 

I love Bobby. He works so hard for us. He takes his responsibilities as husband and father very seriously. It's too easy to take him for granted when things are going well. When things have been so hard, though, I realize that I don't get on very well physically, spiritually, or mentally without him. And that's not just the anxiety talking. I am grateful for Bobby. So glad to be sealed to him for eternity. I'm doing my best to make sure it stays that way.