“I Just Want to Be Normal.”

I’m feeling extra vulnerable today. The past couple of weeks with starting a new semester and a new job have been particularly difficult. I’m constantly reminded of my limitations and it gets really frustrating. I say to myself over and over again that I just want to be “normal”. I know, I know, what does “normal” even mean? Well, in my case, I have a definition behind the word.

When I say “normal” I mean that I don’t want to wake up some days wishing that I didn’t. I want to go through life without feeling a pressure on my head and chest that sometimes leaves me incapable of moving. I want to be able to take more than three classes and work part time without getting so overwhelmed that the only possible solution I can fathom is to quit everything and give up on life altogether. But that is not my life. A lot of people I know don’t fight those feelings on a daily basis.

I had a pretty rough day yesterday (school, research, planning an FHE activity and executing it by myself, not enough meaningful one-on-one interactions and too many surface-level ones) and so I went to bed gladly. I hoped that when I woke up today I would feel better and be able to go to class, work in the research lab, go to my scheduled therapy session, and then come home and do homework.

Only one of those things actually happened, and I bet you can guess which one it was.

This happens to me every semester. Seriously. The same feelings of frustration, inadequacy, anger, sadness, hopelessness, loneliness, etc. They happen every semester, and they hurt every time.

People frequently say that they go through the same things over and over again because they didn’t learn what they needed to learn the first time (for example: humility, gratitude, patience, obedience, etc.). I kind of disagree with that. I DO think that we are given many opportunities to learn something; sometimes we are even put in the same situation. But I DON’T think it’s because we didn’t learn it the first time. We are always changing and evolving. Our life is always moving forward. So even if we encounter the same situation today as we did one year ago, we can progress in new and deeper ways because we are different. It’s not because we failed.

As I was crying to my mom on the phone this morning the thought came to my head that I should read my journal from two years ago when I came back to BYU after dropping out for my mental health. I was dying with how perfectly my 21 year-old self could describe my feelings today. I was also impressed with the solutions I presented: put God first, go to the temple every week, don’t be afraid to ask for Priesthood blessings, and everything will be okay. It wasn’t easy, my semester two years ago. But as I read my struggles in each entry I also saw my triumphs.

So, if the solutions are the same, what am I going to learn this time that’s new? Let’s start with who I was back then. Two years ago I was so afraid of anyone finding out I had mental illness. I had a lot of trust issues. I struggled to open up to people because I didn’t want to burden them or have them think I was crazy. I also feared being misunderstood, because that was so much of what I had encountered throughout my life up to that point. I couldn’t “be myself” around others because I didn’t know who I was. And sometimes, when I felt like I was actually making progress in that regard, I would be shot down by someone who made me feel stupid for having personal preferences when it came to how I dressed, my humor, taste in music, or really anything I liked that they didn’t.

But I’m not like that anymore! I have had some very fulfilling relationships with family and friends in the past two years that reminded me that I can trust people. I figured out who I was and I now stand up to the people who try to make me feel dumb for liking what I like. I went public about my mental illness on social media a year ago because I am not ashamed of what I struggle with and I feel a personal responsibility to stop the stupid stigma that the world still has on it. I’ve also done a lot of really hard and fulfilling things (finished more school, worked in a treatment center, lived in China, etc.) in the past two years.

So yes, I am going through pretty much the same thing that I do every semester. BUT, I am different, my life is different, so here is what I get to experience on an even deeper level than before: trust in God and His plan for me, faith that the Savior will give me the strength to go to class, work, fulfill my calling, etc., love and gratitude for Him and His gospel, that I can do hard things, and that I have value and am needed on this earth.

I love my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ more than anything else in this whole world. I am alive because They have always stayed with me. They know what it is like to live with mental illness. They know the deepest of sorrows, not just for mental illness, but for every difficulty mortality brings us. They comfort me when I am sad and give me the strength to make it another day. When I follow Them, I am okay.

And most importantly, They love me.

This post turned out to be different than I thought it would be, but here we are. September is suicide prevention month so if you or someone you know is struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts please reach out! There are many resources available to you. I am in love with the church’s website on mental health: https://www.lds.org/mentalhealth?lang=eng

And please please PLEASE know that you can always come to me, for anything, not just the mental stuff :) Love you.

"Think of the good that comes from broken things."

I have spent some time over the last month thinking about the concept of being broken: having a broken mind, a broken heart, and a broken body. Throughout my short life I have experienced all of these, and I imagine my experience with them will not end anytime soon.

My broken body came pretty early in my life. I found so much comfort in Alma 40:23, “The soul shall be restored to the body, and the body to the soul; yea, and every limb and joint shall be restored to its body; yea, even a hair of the head shall not be lost; but all things shall be restored to their proper and perfect frame.” I learned that one day, because of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, my body would be whole. With a restored body, all of the things I lost the ability to do because of having a broken body would be restored to me too.

A broken heart came a few years later (and has happened several times since). During these times I learned to appreciate the scripture in 3 Nephi 9:20, “And ye shall offer for a sacrifice unto me a broken heart and a contrite spirit. And whoso cometh unto me with a broken heart and a contrite spirit, him will I baptize with fire and with the Holy Ghost.” The reward for giving my broken heart (and my will) to God was the companionship of the Holy Ghost, a member of the Godhead, a best friend who would guide me and stay with me if I wanted him to.

More time passes. I was a missionary during the October 2013 General Conference. I didn’t realize how much God was preparing me during this conference for what lie ahead until later.

A section from Elder Randy D. Funk’s talk stood out to me so strongly. He said “Think of the good that comes from broken things: Soil is broken to plant wheat. Wheat is broken to make bread. Bread is broken to become the emblems of the sacrament. When one who is repentant partakes of the sacrament with a broken heart and a contrite spirit, he or she becomes whole.”

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland spoke during this same general conference about depression. The line that stood out to me the most was this, “Broken minds can be healed just the way broken bones and broken hearts are healed. While God is at work making those repairs, the rest of us can help by being merciful, nonjudgmental, and kind.”

Just a few months after this general conference, after years of silent suffering, I was diagnosed with mental illness. I finally recognized I also had a broken mind.

I already wrote a blog post about this experience, so I am not going to go into detail. But I just want to point out, that having a broken mind seemed anything but good. However, over and over and over again, Elder Funk’s words entered my mind “Think of the good that comes from broken things.”

It has been several years since that day, and I have a mind that functions pretty well now. It’s not completely whole and I don’t think it ever will be in this life, but through this experience and many others, I have come to see so much of the good that comes from every broken piece of me.

I am grateful for a broken body that caused me to seek the Lord early and rely on Him in all things.

I am grateful for an open heart that loves deeply enough to be broken.

And I am grateful for a broken mind that allows me to have mercy and empathy towards others, because I know what it’s like to feel misunderstood.

The Savior knows what it’s like to be broken. Being broken leads us to seek Him out, rely on Him and His love, and feel a little of what He felt. I believe that every time we feel what He did, we become a little more like Him.

If becoming like Christ is the thing I want the most in this life, and having a broken body, mind, and heart gives me that, I will take them any day.

“Think of the good that comes from broken things.”  Because there is so, so much good.

"Collect Momens, Not Things"

Oh my heck.

China was absolutely incredible. It was a dream. I would say, for me, it was perfect. Not because it was easy, because it wasn’t. But being in China filled an emptiness in my heart that’s been there for a long time. It made me complete. It made me whole. In that sense of the word, China was perfect.

I vividly remember the feeling I had as we drove to the Great Wall of China and I saw it out the window for the first time. Tears filled my eyes as a warmth filled my heart. I can’t describe it. It was like a thirst had been quenched that I didn’t know existed. I had no idea how much my soul longed to see and experience things I had only seen in pictures.

I didn’t know that I wanted to see it until I saw it.

The world is so big. It is so beautiful. Growing up, so many people would say, “I want to travel. I want to see the world”. In my mind I would say, “If I get to see the world, cool, but I don’t need to see it”. Looks like I was wrong.

The culture is SO different. So so different. It was a hard adjustment. It seems like people are always in a hurry, personal space is not a thing, they don’t hold doors open for you, and I felt like I was going to die every time I got in a taxi or on the bus. Luckily, I learned a while ago that just because something is different it doesn’t mean it’s bad, it just means it’s different. Once I got used to the differences, I stopped being so offended at things that aren’t meant to be offensive.

It was a privilege to become acquainted with a lifestyle that is so different from my own. 

I didn’t realize how much I had acclimated to it until I was back in the states. I drove like a maniac at first. I would stand so close to people in line at the store that they would give me a weird look until I took a few steps back. I miss eating rice with every meal. I miss using chopsticks. I’m so used to holding my bowl up to my face and shoveling food into my mouth with my right arm that I look even worse than I did before when I eat. For Christmas my family and I went to the coast of Mexico and stayed in a villa with very few other people around. I was going crazy with how quiet it was. I had just left a city with over 22 million people in it. I just wanted to be around tons and tons of people.

As I sat in church at my new ward today it settled in that I’m no longer in Beijing. Everyone around me speaks English. People don’t want to take a picture with me everywhere I go (which was super fun by the way, it always made them so happy when we would take pictures with them). I have to go to school tomorrow. I don’t get to teach my sweet little students anymore. I don’t have my native coordinators and the other individuals involved with the program who took amazing care of us. I don’t live with the girls who got to know not just Sydney, but also weirdney, cuteney, and even sadney. I love them. So so so much.

And our students! Oh, our students. There are so many sweet little Chinese kids who work so hard to learn a language that is so foreign to them. Teaching them warmed my heart. Every time they would understand a new word or phrase all I could say was “Yes! Yes!! Good job!” And it made me so happy. I could just envision how much better their lives will be because they know English. And being a small part of that is something I’ll never forget.

Going to China was a gift from my Heavenly Father. I felt like Heavenly Father was putting out His hands and saying “Here, Sydney, I want you to be happy for a while. This is for you.” Like I said before, my happiness did not come because of the absence of challenges. I have depression and anxiety; my life will never be without challenges. But using these challenges to rely on the Savior makes me grow and change into the type of person Heavenly Father wants me to be, which really is the type of person I want to be.

 I learned a lot (and was reminded of a lot of things I already knew) while I was in China. We are all God’s children. He loves and cares for all of them. No matter where you go, Jesus Christ will always be your rock if you want Him to be. The Holy Ghost will comfort you, anywhere you live. Judging your worth based off of physical appearance is empty. I reallyyyy love rice. Serving others brings more joy than anything else. Having close friends makes me very very happy. Turning to God and not the world for approval on the way I’m living my life is the only way I can ever have peace. I will never be enough for the world, but I can be enough for the Lord. I will have an eternity to spend with the people I love who I will probably never see again in this life. Weaknesses are a blessing. And I love my Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, more than anything else.

Again, I can’t describe what my time in China means to me. It ended up being so different from what I thought it would be, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. God’s plan is perfect, because He is perfect, and He sees what I cannot see.

Just like I needed the Savior to adjust to China, I need the Savior to adjust back to living in Provo (going to BYU, being without my family, working, etc.) And when I miss China, I can look back on all of the moments we had, because we had so many. And then I can look towards the future with faith and hope, remembering that if Heavenly Father was with me in the past, surely He is with me now, and He will be for the rest of my life.

“Collect momens, not things”. It’s the best way to live.