Okay. I am so done with this.
The waking up in the middle of the night, panicking over what I am not doing right, over what I have done wrong, over the many things I think I should do...as if this life is all about getting a certain amount of things done for the grade.
When I was in high school, I got the instant (and relatively meaningless) gratification that comes from jumping through enough hoops in the right way to get an "A." Oh, I was good at it.
At school. At church. (Not so much at home, but that is the story of another time :). It was my place to feel safely imperfect...and I was! Imperfect and safe, much to the sadness of my family many a time, I am sure.)
The grade. The pat on the back. The knowledge that I was doing at least enough to get the recognition of doing enough from those around me. I don't know that it was to try and be better than others...just to prove to my doubting self, my struggling self-worth, that I was doing something right.
When I went to the Farm last week (yes, it is a title of a place in my heart right now), I felt peace. I felt no anxiety. I felt content.
Did that mean I didn't do anything? That I got nothing "done"? No. On the contrary, my days were full of kids, work, studying, games, laughing, snuggling...peace. There was something about that place (and I felt it in DC and when I went to visit other places, like Maryland two weeks ago, come to think of it), that washed away all these tiny doubts that plague me:
--am I doing enough in homeschooling?
--what about all those projects in the yard I could and should be working on to create not only a beautiful and clean environment for my family but would also be a way to beautify our neighborhood and show responsibility with our possessions?
--what about my time spent with my kids? Am I ruining it in my haste?..
...quick interjection on this one: just yesterday morning I was finally taking time for my little ones. I had even picked up some fruity cereal loops to make necklaces. Little Spooner came running up to the table with glee when I said time for school. I had pulled out some of the old workbooks that weren't done and they all started doing things with them.
Was I present? No. I was spending the time reorganizing and straightening around them, not really paying much attention to their chatter and enthusiasm.
So then I brought out the fruit loops. And couldn't find any yarn. Anywhere. I spent 20 minutes heckling children to go and find some, missing the precious happiness at the table and spreading doubt and frustration as to what we were doing and what was important. My kind and eager children's enthusiasm to help their stressing mother waned into doubt as to their ability to help me, despite their best efforts. (Story of all those wonderful people who try and help me in my life?)
We find some kind of thread to use. I pour out bowls, turn to Spooner and get him started. And then leave. I leave a three year old to make his own necklace. Then come back moments later and get after him for heaven forbid eating most of what he puts on. Right away. I punish him by taking it away and with my mean tones. Poor dear says, "Sorry, Mommy," with the saddest face ever. Do I melt? Now, I do. Then I didn't. I sit next to him and fume about how I don't get unhealthy things for them just to eat...they have to mean something or have some worth. Ouch. I cringe just hearing myself in my head.
Now. I have a couple different options when I remember things like this (or when the Spirit brings it to my remembrance). I can sit there and beat myself up. Or, I can take this as one of those admonitions from the Lord, check my heart, repent, come up with a mental alternative for when this situation or one like it happens again, and determine to do better.
I need to deal with this. This anxiety is ruining things. I spent I don't know how long yesterday just wandering from mess pile to mess pile in my house, uselessly wondering and wandering and feeling completely overwhelmed.
--I must have too many things
--should I just put everything down and go snuggle?
--who should I snuggle with first?
--what about that mess?
--what about the allowance that I told everyone I would get them yesterday?
--what about lunch?
--good, better, best...good, better, best...
I can hear this litany of questions even now! I am so busy trying to answer them that I am getting nowhere.
I spoke with my mom yesterday about it, about knowing how unhealthy and wrong this is. About how many friends I hear that deal with the same things.
How I am determined to find answers. To find peace. I have tasted it. It is possible.
I know this has been more of a rambling type post. I know that many others out there deal with this thing called anxiety. We are many of us anxious about one thing or another. I know the scriptures tell us to be "anxiously engaged in a good cause" but so many more times tell us to trust God and be at peace, to do all that we can do and then rely upon the Lord. "Cheerfully do all things that lie in your power and then stand still, with utmost assurance, for the arm of the Lord to be revealed..." or something like that (D&C 123:17...check it out. It's awesome.)
As I was looking up the end of that previously memorized scripture, the Lord showed me the beginning part of my answer in an article:
Finding Self Worth in a Selfie World
It confirmed my answer that I received this morning, recorded on my notepad on my phone and left upstairs:
-Be Present
-Follow the Spirit and keep doing that thing until the Spirit dictates that I should stop
-Laugh More and List Less
-Charity Never Faileth
These are all things I can do. In fact, I need to stop doing things in order to do them, not do more.
Wow. That's crazy. (I am continually amazed by the things that "come out of my fingers" when I start writing, truths that seem to have been hidden therein.)
I don't have to add more time to do what will help. I can do this. With God's help, we can do this, I should say.
My mind seeks to create a new list for today. Sigh. Old habits will die hard. However, with the recognition that this will not add more time, but take things out, why am I already worried about failing? What is failure? I don't believe God will meet us at the pearly gates with a long list of everything we did in this life to prove our worth. It will be who we are and what we have become, who we have served and how we did it. As my dear friend Andrea said, what if our life's mission is to help one person? What if it is? And what if we spend so much time running around worrying about why our mission doesn't look like someone else's that we miss it?
Every time I turn to God, He is telling me to slow down. To trust more. To have the peace and joy that comes through charity, which never faileth. Charity: suffer long, envy not, seek not my own.
As I experienced that blessed peace on the Farm and now this debilitating anxiety and stress immediately afterward, I have wondered if maybe I am experiencing this (in part) so that I would know what it feels like, much as I learned depth of sorrow and the limitless power of the Atonement through the death of my son,...that dear,dear little boy that I yearn to hold in my arms in the eternities.
Maybe I am experiencing this so that I can not only relate to others, but so that we may find answers together, battle together, find peace together.
Satan is truly wielding his chain, swinging it over the whole earth and laughing, laughing at the paralysis he is causing among the women of the world and some men. I wonder if Anxiety is one of the modern plagues of this world, created by false reflections of self image, and, like in the article referenced above,
**I was going to post this on this blog. I accidentally pulled up my Singing Bees one and started writing. When I discovered my "error," I feel it was for a reason. I will double post it, so sorry for the repeat for any who might read both (other than my dear husband :)...).. Any others who have ideas or experiences that they would like to share, I would greatly benefit from your own experiences, your own successes. We can do this!
The waking up in the middle of the night, panicking over what I am not doing right, over what I have done wrong, over the many things I think I should do...as if this life is all about getting a certain amount of things done for the grade.
When I was in high school, I got the instant (and relatively meaningless) gratification that comes from jumping through enough hoops in the right way to get an "A." Oh, I was good at it.
At school. At church. (Not so much at home, but that is the story of another time :). It was my place to feel safely imperfect...and I was! Imperfect and safe, much to the sadness of my family many a time, I am sure.)
The grade. The pat on the back. The knowledge that I was doing at least enough to get the recognition of doing enough from those around me. I don't know that it was to try and be better than others...just to prove to my doubting self, my struggling self-worth, that I was doing something right.
When I went to the Farm last week (yes, it is a title of a place in my heart right now), I felt peace. I felt no anxiety. I felt content.
Did that mean I didn't do anything? That I got nothing "done"? No. On the contrary, my days were full of kids, work, studying, games, laughing, snuggling...peace. There was something about that place (and I felt it in DC and when I went to visit other places, like Maryland two weeks ago, come to think of it), that washed away all these tiny doubts that plague me:
--am I doing enough in homeschooling?
--what about all those projects in the yard I could and should be working on to create not only a beautiful and clean environment for my family but would also be a way to beautify our neighborhood and show responsibility with our possessions?
--what about my time spent with my kids? Am I ruining it in my haste?..
...quick interjection on this one: just yesterday morning I was finally taking time for my little ones. I had even picked up some fruity cereal loops to make necklaces. Little Spooner came running up to the table with glee when I said time for school. I had pulled out some of the old workbooks that weren't done and they all started doing things with them.
Was I present? No. I was spending the time reorganizing and straightening around them, not really paying much attention to their chatter and enthusiasm.
So then I brought out the fruit loops. And couldn't find any yarn. Anywhere. I spent 20 minutes heckling children to go and find some, missing the precious happiness at the table and spreading doubt and frustration as to what we were doing and what was important. My kind and eager children's enthusiasm to help their stressing mother waned into doubt as to their ability to help me, despite their best efforts. (Story of all those wonderful people who try and help me in my life?)
We find some kind of thread to use. I pour out bowls, turn to Spooner and get him started. And then leave. I leave a three year old to make his own necklace. Then come back moments later and get after him for heaven forbid eating most of what he puts on. Right away. I punish him by taking it away and with my mean tones. Poor dear says, "Sorry, Mommy," with the saddest face ever. Do I melt? Now, I do. Then I didn't. I sit next to him and fume about how I don't get unhealthy things for them just to eat...they have to mean something or have some worth. Ouch. I cringe just hearing myself in my head.
Now. I have a couple different options when I remember things like this (or when the Spirit brings it to my remembrance). I can sit there and beat myself up. Or, I can take this as one of those admonitions from the Lord, check my heart, repent, come up with a mental alternative for when this situation or one like it happens again, and determine to do better.
I need to deal with this. This anxiety is ruining things. I spent I don't know how long yesterday just wandering from mess pile to mess pile in my house, uselessly wondering and wandering and feeling completely overwhelmed.
--I must have too many things
--should I just put everything down and go snuggle?
--who should I snuggle with first?
--what about that mess?
--what about the allowance that I told everyone I would get them yesterday?
--what about lunch?
--good, better, best...good, better, best...
I can hear this litany of questions even now! I am so busy trying to answer them that I am getting nowhere.
I spoke with my mom yesterday about it, about knowing how unhealthy and wrong this is. About how many friends I hear that deal with the same things.
How I am determined to find answers. To find peace. I have tasted it. It is possible.
I know this has been more of a rambling type post. I know that many others out there deal with this thing called anxiety. We are many of us anxious about one thing or another. I know the scriptures tell us to be "anxiously engaged in a good cause" but so many more times tell us to trust God and be at peace, to do all that we can do and then rely upon the Lord. "Cheerfully do all things that lie in your power and then stand still, with utmost assurance, for the arm of the Lord to be revealed..." or something like that (D&C 123:17...check it out. It's awesome.)
As I was looking up the end of that previously memorized scripture, the Lord showed me the beginning part of my answer in an article:
Finding Self Worth in a Selfie World
It confirmed my answer that I received this morning, recorded on my notepad on my phone and left upstairs:
-Be Present
-Follow the Spirit and keep doing that thing until the Spirit dictates that I should stop
-Laugh More and List Less
-Charity Never Faileth
These are all things I can do. In fact, I need to stop doing things in order to do them, not do more.
Wow. That's crazy. (I am continually amazed by the things that "come out of my fingers" when I start writing, truths that seem to have been hidden therein.)
I don't have to add more time to do what will help. I can do this. With God's help, we can do this, I should say.
My mind seeks to create a new list for today. Sigh. Old habits will die hard. However, with the recognition that this will not add more time, but take things out, why am I already worried about failing? What is failure? I don't believe God will meet us at the pearly gates with a long list of everything we did in this life to prove our worth. It will be who we are and what we have become, who we have served and how we did it. As my dear friend Andrea said, what if our life's mission is to help one person? What if it is? And what if we spend so much time running around worrying about why our mission doesn't look like someone else's that we miss it?
Every time I turn to God, He is telling me to slow down. To trust more. To have the peace and joy that comes through charity, which never faileth. Charity: suffer long, envy not, seek not my own.
As I experienced that blessed peace on the Farm and now this debilitating anxiety and stress immediately afterward, I have wondered if maybe I am experiencing this (in part) so that I would know what it feels like, much as I learned depth of sorrow and the limitless power of the Atonement through the death of my son,...that dear,dear little boy that I yearn to hold in my arms in the eternities.
Maybe I am experiencing this so that I can not only relate to others, but so that we may find answers together, battle together, find peace together.
Satan is truly wielding his chain, swinging it over the whole earth and laughing, laughing at the paralysis he is causing among the women of the world and some men. I wonder if Anxiety is one of the modern plagues of this world, created by false reflections of self image, and, like in the article referenced above,
Maybe not having friends in 5th grade meant I wasn’t being a friend to my classmates. Maybe not feeling attractive in high school meant I needed to step away from my mirror and look out my window. Maybe not receiving the leadership roles I felt I needed in order to really make a difference as a missionary meant that I wasn’t fully serving those closest to me—my missionary companions and the families who were looking to us for gospel understanding. Maybe feeling enslaved to a job that wasn’t the coolest or most lucrative meant that I didn’t yet understand that it would be outside the hours of 9 to 5 where my happiest, hardest, and most sacred work would be done. And maybe feeling cheated by 78 “likes” on a posted picture that I thought deserved a million means I’ve swung too far from what I once understood about self-worth and have parlayed my divine identity into an idea of someone I’m not quite and perhaps never will be.This is just the beginning. Part I, baby. Satan will not win. I will fight. I will prove that charity never faileth...through the grace of God.
**I was going to post this on this blog. I accidentally pulled up my Singing Bees one and started writing. When I discovered my "error," I feel it was for a reason. I will double post it, so sorry for the repeat for any who might read both (other than my dear husband :)...).. Any others who have ideas or experiences that they would like to share, I would greatly benefit from your own experiences, your own successes. We can do this!
