My Second Podcast

I was grateful for the opportunity to share my story on Richard Ostler's Listen, Learn, and Love podcast. The Zoom call was on January 18th and the episode was published over the weekend. This is his summary:

Episode 377: Wendi Jagerson, Active LDS, Bipolar, MS, Family Left the Church

My friend Wendi Jagerson, married mother of two and one grandson, bravely shares her journey with complicated life challenges that started after her successful mission in the Philadelphia, Pennsylvania area. Wendi starts with her journey with Bipolar II Disorder which was diagnosed in 1995. Wendi talks about how it eventually became very difficult to leave her own home and how she wasn't able to enjoy church or social contact for several years. Wendi talks about her journey to find hope and healing.

Wendi continues with her husband John opening up about his unbelief in 2012 (he is an atheist) and her two adult children also leaving the Church. Wendi talks about how she loves and admires John and how she is keeping the family circle strong and together, while leaving all this at the Savior’s feet. It is a remarkable love story including the birth of their grandson.

Wendi also shares about her MS diagnosis in 2013.

Wendi’s life is very different than she envisioned flying home from her mission in 1994. But Wendi’s story, like many of our stories, is about the realities of mortality—and how to find hope and healing living with those realities—and the role of therapists, medication, friends, and the Gospel of Jesus Christ to give perspective to move forward.

If you are in a tough spot, please listen to Wendi's story. It will give you hope and better tools to move forward. Thank you Wendi for the courage to share your story. You and your family are awesome.

Richard 'Papa' Ostler

• The podcast is listed under three different categories on three different platforms, so I hope it helps the people who need to hear it!

Listen, Learn, and Love: Depression / Mental Illness/ OCD podcasts

Listen, Learn, and Love: Women's Voices podcasts

Listen, Learn, and Love: LDS Faith Questions podcasts

Also on: iTunes, Soundcloud, and Spotify

Chapter 24: Focusing Less on Outcomes (part 2)

            I attended the luncheon afterward to help serve dessert. While I was there, I met Dee’s sister-in-law and sat at a table with one of Janell’s nieces and her family. That helped me feel more connected to Janell. As I mentioned earlier, I met Janell’s half-sister on the day we found out about her death in April. Over the months that followed, we kept in touch by text and email. I also treated her to lunch and I appreciated the opportunity to talk with her again in person. She reminded me that Janell talked about our walks often. She felt that no one did more to help Janell be happy than I did before she died. I was so thankful for that privilege and opportunity that God gave me! About two weeks after our lunch, Janell’s husband died suddenly in mid-August 2014. I don’t think the timing of our lunch was a coincidence. Because we were now friends, I stood by her and her family at Dee’s graveside service. His ashes were placed in the grave with their daughter and Janell’s ashes had previously been placed in the grave with their son. After the service, I talked with the daughter of Janell’s half-sister and her two children. I don’t think that as a coincidence either.

            I ended up visiting Janell’s half-sister and niece several times in Saratoga Springs. I also met Janell’s niece for lunch a few times. They had returned to Utah from Seattle within that past year and, while they were up there, they became active in the church again because of the kindness of missionaries and several members of their ward. God obviously knew they would need to continue to feel His love after they returned to Utah, so I think that was also part of the reason I was supposed to knock on Janell’s door. Otherwise, I probably would have never met them, since they live 30 minutes away from me. My friendship with Janell’s niece continued and we met at the temple several times. This strengthened her to deal with some difficult circumstances in her life and it was also good preparation for when we did Janell’s temple work on May 12, 2015. I was so grateful for the privilege of being with Janell’s niece when she did the initiatory and endowment for her aunt that I loved. At one point, I just held Janell’s temple card to my heart and hugged it because I loved and missed her so much. That day was filled with feelings of great joy. The Lord had clearly been orchestrating this whole situation from the beginning. There is more to this story, but I will continue telling it in a future chapter.

 ***

            Meanwhile, I continued to visit women in our stake. I visited one woman on May 7, 2014 (which was 15 days after Janell passed away). During our visit, she asked me to try to help her daughter, who had also struggled with serious depression for over 20 years. I knocked on her daughter’s door each of the following days and she finally opened the door four days later on May 12th (which was exactly one year prior to the day that Janell’s niece and I completed her temple work). She invited me in and we quickly became friends. She was extremely overweight and deeply depressed, so we started walking together when she returned home from work on most days. Janell and I had walked in the afternoons as well, so each walk helped to heal my heart. Most of the time, this friend picked me up after she decompressed from work and we usually drove up the canyon to walk by the river. That beautiful, relaxing atmosphere was the perfect venue for gradual changes in her life

            I learned more about her life each time we walked and talked. She self-harmed by cutting her arms for several years and both arms were covered with scars. She was the middle daughter in a family of nine children and felt neglected on several levels. She had been in a relationship with a verbally abusive boyfriend for a few years and didn’t stand up for herself because she felt that she didn’t deserve to be treated any differently. She stayed in the relationship because her boyfriend had MS and his health was progressively deteriorating, so it gave her life some purpose to help take care of him. When they started dating, he asked her to stop cutting and she did, so she also felt indebted to him for that. She was actually diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, in addition to depression, and that manifested itself in several other ways. She constantly dyed her hair different colors and would often wear different styles of wigs over her hair as well. She eventually shaved her hair completely and continued to just wear wigs instead. As I observed this over several months, I realized that it was probably because her hair was one of the only things about her life she had any control over. She also had limited money management skills and spent most of her paychecks on clothes, purses, and eating out. She often let her mail pile up and wouldn’t open her bills, so she was sent to collections several times, along with some of her wages being garnished.

            I tried to help her through some of those difficult circumstances with varying degrees of success over the following 2 ½ years. After knowing her for a couple of weeks, I felt prompted to suggest that if she stopped eating out for most of her meals, she would have enough money to pay all her bills, she could start paying tithing if she wanted to, and would probably lose some weight as well. I’m normally not quite that bold! She actually listened to me, even though she could have easily chosen to be very offended. As a result, she lost 70 pounds during the next year and felt better emotionally because of our regular walking. She sometimes forgot to fill her prescriptions, so I always offered to go with her to make sure she picked them up, since it was very important for her mental stability. I often walked over to her basement apartment to visit her and helped her redecorate in August 2015. She chose some of her favorite patterns from my scrapbook paper and I cut out large letters to make an uplifting saying for her bedroom wall, at her request. The phrase she chose was, “When you learn you grow. When you grow you change.”

            She was stable enough to have the same full-time job for several years, which was a huge accomplishment. However, she constantly struggled with her finances. After about a year of watching her flounder, I asked if she would like some help, since I have a talent of keeping track of our finances. I helped her make a budget, but she struggled to follow it. I showed her how she could pay off some of her credit cards and even went with her to the bank, but she always maxed out the balances again. After a few weeks, we decided to add her accounts on my Quicken program, so I could help her track her spending. She made progress for a few days and then she would blow all her money on wigs or purses. This pattern occurred frequently and it was frustrating for me, but I continued to try to help her. I discovered during this time that she always remembered to pay her car payment. I asked her why that was different and she explained that the title was in her boyfriend’s name, since she couldn’t qualify for a loan, and she didn’t want to ruin his credit. I realized that the car was another way he could control her. So we worked on several different plans for her to pay off the loan and then she could arrange to have the title transferred to her name. During this same time, I tried to build up her confidence even more than I had in the past and tried to convince her that she deserved to be treated well. She started to believe me, but  never felt like she could break up with her boyfriend because that would include returning the car and she had no way to pay for one herself. Each time she would return from spending the weekend with him, it took me days to build her back up again. That became more and more difficult the longer it went on.  

            In August 2015, I felt strongly that I needed to help her in a way I hadn’t before. I made a few judgement calls to help her pay off and close some of her credit cards, so she could pay down the car loan faster. Then we made a simple plan for her to consistently pay me back over the coming months as well. It worked for about five paychecks and then she found ways to start blowing her money again. The more I tried to help her, the more things spiraled. By October 2015, it looked like I would never get the remaining $1,500 back and that really discouraged me because I thought I had followed promptings. I was also sad because she gained back most of the weight she lost over the previous year. I returned to college that semester, so I didn’t have as much time to spend and she pulled back as well. She rented from a family member and they decided to move, so that meant she had to find a new place to live also. I helped her declutter, clean, and pack up her apartment in late spring 2016 and then helped her move into another small basement apartment in June 2016. I visited her a couple of times to help her get organized, but I didn’t find her home much after that. One time, I did find her home and I spontaneously took her out to dinner at her favorite restaurant. We talked about how she was feeling in the relationship with her boyfriend and she had finally decided to break up with him. She was scared about the retaliation, though, so we discussed a few different scenarios. I didn’t see her much during fall 2016 and I worried about her, but couldn’t force her to communicate with me.

            During that time, she started dating another guy. He encouraged her to grow her hair back out and to stop hiding behind wigs. He also helped her return the car to her ex-boyfriend late one night with an apology note that she wasn’t able to continue paying on the loan. He comforted her through her episodes of depression and encouraged her in other ways as well. They found an inexpensive car to share and she ended up moving out in January 2017. She texted to ask me for money, but I had to tell her no, which I felt bad about. I just couldn’t afford to lose more than I already had. They rented a small house in a poor, kind of scary, neighborhood in Salt Lake county and began living together from then on. I drove up to treat her to a birthday lunch in December 2017 and she still seemed to be doing okay. She surprised me by sending a wedding announcement in August 2018. I helped served lunch at the church, attended the wedding in her parents’ back yard, and stayed to help with refreshments during the reception that evening. That was the last time I saw her and I hope she’s doing well, since she doesn’t respond to my texts. I sometimes think back to the early days of our friendship when she told people that “God dropped me on her doorstep.” I do believe I was in her life to help her in the ways I could and I’m grateful for the time we shared together.

***

            During my visiting journey, I met three other women who struggled deeply with depression and needed a significant amount of support. Two of them were single and both of their moms passed away during the time I was trying to help them. I stood and sat by one of them at the viewing, funeral, graveside service, and luncheon to try to be supportive. Both were borderline hoarders and I spent several months during summer and fall 2017 helping one of them organize the basement of her parents’ house where she still lived. However, every time I went back over, the progress from the previous time had disappeared. It drained my energy and was very discouraging, so I eventually had to take a step back from helping her in that way. However, I did help her move all her preschool equipment twice, which took several days each time. I also helped the other woman move into an apartment in Provo. I walked and talked with them as much as they would allow me to and that seemed to help their emotional state. One of them earned her master’s degree online during those years and is now employed part-time as a therapist. I earned my associate degree during that same time frame, so we encouraged each other through the almost constant stress we both felt. These two women still struggle and have ongoing challenges, but I was grateful for the opportunity to help in whatever way I could over several years.

            The third woman moved from our ward after she and her husband retired. While she still lived in our neighborhood, she struggled with depression and debilitating anxiety for many years. She had complications from a hip surgery that made it difficult for her to walk and also suffered from congestive heart disease. After they moved to a retirement community in Pleasant Grove, her anxiety and depression became even more difficult for her to bear. One day in 2015, I was driving to the Mt. Timpanogos Temple and felt prompted to text her. I stopped by the next time I was in her area and that began the extensive amount of time I spent in her home trying to uplift and comfort her. She often texted me in between the visits and I tried to give her hope until the next visit. She was too anxious to drive very far and feeling trapped at home was part of her struggle. Sometimes her husband dropped her off at a hair salon and I would sit with her to keep her company. Then I would drive her back home. I encouraged her to drive when I was there and just tried to keep her calm from the passenger seat. Often, we would drive to Subway or Purple Turtle for lunch that way. Two other times, I attended an appointment with her psychiatrist and also with her cardiologist to provide moral support.

            After three years, nothing I did or said seemed to help for more than a couple hours. I felt exhausted trying to balance my visits with her, helping two of the women I wrote about previously, keeping up with my college classes, attending the temple regularly, and trying to still have time for my family. Finally, I made the difficult decision to stop visiting her, but we still texted back and forth quite a bit for 1 ½ more years. She sent me a text on the night our grandson was born in January 2020 to tell me she was having heart bypass surgery the next day. I had a strong feeling that she wouldn’t survive the surgery, so I texted back that I would pray for her, told her again how much I loved her, and that I was grateful for our friendship. She passed away from complications later that week. I attended her funeral and couldn’t help but be grateful, even though I was sad, that she was finally free of the mental and physical challenges that had plagued her for so many years.

            My time with each of these women helped me to understand that it’s important to try not to worry about the results when you reach out to others. Kindness or service to others doesn’t need to end in a certain result for the kindness or service to matter. I believe that my kindness mattered to Janell even though that situation didn’t end at all like I hoped it would. I believe it mattered to the others also, even though I wasn’t able to do as much as I wanted to for them. In another type of service, missionaries spend most of their time planting seeds. The changes in people’s lives usually take a long time. I continue to remind myself to not be overly concerned with the outcome of my efforts.

Chapter 24: Focusing Less on Outcomes (part 1)

* I woke up in the middle of the night with heartburn, which rarely happens anymore. So I got up and worked on this part of the story between 4:30am and 6:30am this morning. I still have more to write, but I will post this and come back to finish it soon.

            The main way the Spirit works in my life is that it prompts me to some kind of action. There are countless experiences I could share about this, but the one I want to focus on is how I met Janell. At the end of January 2014 (almost five months after my original prompting), the sister missionaries asked if they could stop by. I agreed and they showed us a video about doing missionary work in our everyday life. That prompted me to put several names on the temple prayer roll the next time I was there and Janell was one of them. Since I was out visiting people on most days, my hope was that the Lord would cross my path with hers. A couple weeks later in mid-February, I walked to the retirement community near our home, which was something I did regularly. I was helping a friend with several of her temple names and I tried to return the completed card each time. My friend wasn’t home that day, which was unusual, because her husband suffered from the advanced stages of Alzheimer’s disease. As I left her driveway, I was strongly prompted to knock on Janell’s door. She lived next door to this friend, but I never knocked on her door before because a few people in our ward had advised me to not attempt to visit her, since she was no longer interested in attending church.

            She answered the door and I had a brief conversation with her. I explained in my typical animated way that I was enjoying getting to know many of her neighbors to help overcome the social anxiety I had experienced for several years. I asked if I could call her to set up a time to come back and visit her also, since she didn’t have much time that day. She agreed, but I think it was mostly because she didn’t want to reject me entirely, since I explained my desire to visit her in such an enthusiastic way. I called her a few hours later and reminded her who I was. During the beginning of that call, she said (and I quote), “I am a psych nurse. Are you sure you’re not having a manic episode?” Even though she said it rather rudely, I just tried to laugh it off and explained again that I just wanted to get to know more people. I sincerely emphasized that “I used to think people were the problem and now I know people are the answer for me.” She wasn’t completely convinced, so I asked if I could call her back again sometime. I was feeling a sense of urgency, so I called her back two more times over the next few days. She was difficult to talk to at first, but I felt some hope because she continued to answer the phone and I’m fairly certain she had caller ID.

            During those conversations, I learned she was a convert to the church, but hadn’t attended in years. I promised her that I wasn’t trying to visit her because of a calling or church assignment, I just sincerely wanted to know her better. On the third call, I let her know that I wouldn’t keep bothering her if she wasn’t interested in developing a friendship. However, she genuinely surprised me by calling back a couple days later. We talked for almost 45 minutes about some really important and difficult things in both of our lives. For example, she shared that her only daughter had taken her own life in 1992 when she was 16 years old and that her only son had died in their bathtub from a drug overdose in 2007 when he was 25 years old. I think she thought telling me those sad experiences would scare me away, but I listened carefully and expressed as much empathy as I could for those deeply tragic losses. At the end of the call, I asked her if I could come over and visit her in the next few minutes and she agreed. I was so grateful for the trust that showed.

            I immediately walked over to her house after that phone call. Instead of being hesitant that time, she opened the door wide, smiled at me, and gave me a hug. I had quickly printed out a list of things that helped me overcome the debilitating depression I had experienced. I gave her that paper, along with a favorite kind of protein bar, since we had discussed a couple of simple physical fitness ideas during our phone call. I asked her if she would ever be interested in walking with me because I wanted more than anything to do something to help people who had experienced depression like I had. To my surprise, she said she would like to try that. So we decided right then that we would start walking together on weekday afternoons. It became very clear to me during our first walk that she was extremely depressed, so I didn’t know how much I could actually do to change her situation. However, as I discussed at the beginning of chapter 19, I learned from John Lund that all I needed to do was “love much and do what I can do.” The two things I could try to do were to walk with Janell as often as she would let me on weekday afternoons and try to bring joy and cheer into that small time I spent with her. I didn’t know how I could really make a difference for her, but I was willing to try to help in my small and simple way.

            My love for Janell grew quickly during the handful of walks we went on, even though we had very little in common. As we were walking back to her house one day, we talked with the woman who lived next door to her on the other side. She explained that she was planning to have those same sister missionaries over for dinner later that week and invited both of us to join them. I don’t think Janell would have agreed under any other circumstance, but I had already explained that I believed their message was the reason I was brave enough to knock on her door in the first place. Later that week, I returned to her home about a half hour before that dinner was supposed to happen. She invited me in to keep her company while she finished getting ready. Her husband, Dee, had started calling me “Wendy bird” (a reference to the Disney animated movie, Peter Pan) when he opened the door before some of our walks. Janell officially introduced me to him. Then I followed her back to their bedroom where I sat (and bounced a little) on her tall, comfy bed and talked with her while she finished getting ready for the dinner. I was a little nervous too, since I had rarely been to dinner at other people’s houses before. Most of those dinners had been when I was serving as a full-time missionary and they often made me feel anxious back then also. It ended up being an enjoyable dinner, though. One of the missionaries was very casual and fun. I remembered that from when they visited my house. She helped us both feel much more comfortable than we would have been otherwise, since we found out that the husband of the woman who had invited us had served as a full-time mission president several years earlier. I walked her home after dinner and gave her a hug.

            I think Janell and I walked a few more times after that and I was planning to walk with her for as long as she would let me. Unfortunately, she also took her own life over Easter weekend in mid-April 2014 (after we had only been walking together for just under two months). I called on the Monday after Easter to see when Janell would like to walk that afternoon. Dee was hesitant when I asked to talk with her and then, after a long pause, Janell’s half-sister picked up the phone. She felt sad about being the one to break the news to me and I remember just crumpling to my knees with tears streaming down my cheeks as she explained the few details she knew about what had happened that weekend. After we both cried as we talked for those minutes, I asked if she would allow me to come over and give her a hug in person. She agreed and I continued to cry as I told my husband.

            I then walked, with tears still streaming down my face, over to my good friend’s house who was serving as the Relief Society president. She was as shocked at hearing the news as I was, since I had talked to her about my happiness over the  progress I was making with Janell during our morning walks with the other women in the ward. She asked if she could call the bishop to tell him and I said that would probably be okay. Then she agreed to walk over to Janell’s house with me and I was so grateful for her support. The bishop drove over before we arrived to ask if the ward could help with a funeral. Dee agreed to a luncheon for the extended family after the graveside service, since Janell would be cremated. Our visit was more casual than that one and it was a comfort to Dee and Janell’s half-sister. My friend’s dad had taken his own life years earlier, so she expressed sincere empathy to them. Janell’s half-sister told me again that Janell had talked with her several times about the walks she had been on with me. She told me that she didn’t believe anyone else could have coaxed Janell out of her dark house and into the sunlight. I was so sad, but also very grateful for that confirmation of Janell’s friendship with me. She hugged me and then my friend and I slowly walked back home. Since my friend was the Relief Society president, she had asked for a rough estimate of how many would be attending the luncheon. So she was able to start planning for that with several other women in the ward after she walked me to my doorstep. I was grateful for her love and support, since I felt like I was still in shock over the situation. She gave me a long hug and then left.

            I attended the graveside service a few days later and took the opportunity to share a few thoughts at the microphone. When I found out what happened that Monday afternoon, I was devastated. I seriously wondered what all that time spent with Janell had been for because I really thought I was in her life to help save her life. However, God helped me know unmistakably that it was because He loves Janell and her family. Looking back, I was able to have a “goodbye” talk with her on one of our walks shortly before she died. I asked her what she thought of me when I first knocked on her door a couple of months earlier. She confirmed that she thought I was kind of crazy and we both laughed. (That seemed to be the consensus with most women I visited. Most of them thought I was trying to sell them something at first. They always seemed pleasantly surprised at the end of our visit that it actually was only about building a friendship.) Then I asked her what she thought that day as we were on that walk. She said something similar to her half-sister. There was no one else who could have convinced her to leave her dark house and walk out in the sunshine. I reminded her that I knocked on her door because God loves her and He wanted her to feel His love through me. Just simple, little me. I could tell that she was softening toward the gospel as we talked and walked and I believe she definitely left this life going in the right direction. I have always appreciated a quote by Neal A. Maxwell that says “Eternal things are always done in the process of time…. Direction is initially more important than speed”  (Relief Society Personal Study Guide 2: Learn of Me, “Love Within the Family,” p. 95).

Chapter 16: Connection is Critical

* I have pieced this together several different ways and I still think the paragraphs need polishing. I'm going to come back to it with fresh eyes another time. (I added more content and rearranged several more sentences on July 28, 2020.)

            The final missing link for me was connection with the people around me. I never fully realized that because of the social anxiety I felt for so many years. However, being with people has made all the difference. Dr. Brené Brown is a famous researcher, author, and speaker who has studied connection and empathy for many years. I learned from her that connection is what gives meaning and purpose to our lives. 

            The original prompting to “know more people in the stake” happened on the evening of September 4, 2013. God went big with that prompting. He didn’t tell me who I should know, so I figured I just needed to try to know everyone. I started with women in my ward (church congregation) and neighborhood. Then, I gradually branched out to the other wards in our stake (since that was the word used in my prompting). I continued to receive promptings and, as I acted each time, I was gradually able to face and overcome my fears. Visiting with women helped me to regularly challenge my social anxiety and I began to focus on problems and struggles outside of my own. When I knew more about the women, I could begin to love and serve them. Plus, I learned something from every person I spent time with and that helped me to continue to progress. As I practiced visiting, my courage and capacity increased. God knows how to do His work and miracles occurred during the time I spent with several women.

            People sometimes wonder how I decided who to visit. At first, I just tried to act on any opportunity to talk with people, since each conversation helped me to more fully face my fears. Then I began interacting with people in a much more deliberate way. It started with making a goal to meet as many women as I could before and after stake activities. As I developed more courage, I looked over ward lists and called or emailed women whose names stood out to me to see if they would let me visit them. Sometimes, I would just knock on doors of the houses I felt drawn to while I was out walking each day. Occasionally, the women I visited would give me a name of another woman that would benefit from a visit. At one point, I was strongly inspired to visit all the Relief Society presidents and bishop’s wives in the stake as well. I also spoke directly to several of the bishops to find out the needs of the women in their wards. Three of the bishops gave me a name of a woman in their ward who struggled with depression. At first, many of the women thought I was selling something, but they were pleasantly surprised when that never came up in our visits. 

            A few months into the visiting, I realized that I was supposed to consider this as an unofficial full-time mission, so I visited for several hours on most days for 23 months. (I had two surgeries during that time, so I wanted to make sure I gave the Lord the full 18 months.) I wanted to show God how I would have served with my whole heart on my actual full-time mission in 1993 and 1994 if I hadn’t been so depressed and anxious for most of that time. I continued to visit on a more casual level for several years after that as well. I ended up visiting approximately 500 women in our stake and I eventually stretched myself even more to visit old friends. My visiting journey took me all over the Wasatch Front of north-central Utah (as far as Payson in the south, to Saratoga Springs and Eagle Mountain in the west, and as far as Layton in the north). The whole process was Spirit-led and I really didn't have my own agenda. 

            Visiting gave me opportunities to learn how to develop close friendships and to help other women who also struggle with emotional or physical challenges. I am so grateful for the lasting friendships I developed with several of the women in my neighborhood. I learned from Brené Brown that connection is a result of being authentic. In order for connection to happen, we have to allow ourselves to really be seen. Because of our close connection, we shared very important and personal details about our lives with each other, which helped us feel validated, encouraged, and loved. These friends have helped me through many challenges and I've been grateful for the chance to support them in some of their challenges as well.         

            During my visiting journey, I decided I would try to be “the friend of the friendless.” That way, they would each have a friend and I would have more friends as well. Learning to visit helped me take the focus off myself and my own struggles. My perspective gradually switched to other people and how I could help them. Most of the women I was prompted to visit needed what I had to offer and I even started walking or visiting regularly with a few who struggled with depression. They knew they could trust me because I was able to show them empathy from my similar experiences. I learned from Brené Brown that empathy fuels connection. It is being willing to recognize another person’s perspective. It is staying out of judgment. It is recognizing emotion in other people and then communicating that. Empathy is feeling with people. It is expressing that you know what it feels like to be overwhelmed and that they are not alone. As time went on, I gradually learned that I didn’t have to be at the same level of friendship with everyone, which was an important distinction for me to understand. 

            Later, I was asked on several different occasions how I coped with feeling overwhelmed, used, or burned out in the process of trying to help people with ongoing difficult struggles. I have compiled a few of my answers that continue to be a good reference for me. The main answer is that Jesus is the only One with the power to save us. Our part is to turn our lives over to Him and to point those we love and are concerned about toward Him. Sometimes, our wells may feel like they are empty while we are giving all we can and trying to help people who need a lot of attention. The best way I have learned to handle that is to always pray for them and then turn the situation over to God after we have done all we are able to do each day. If we focus on building and strengthening them, they will be more able to overcome their own challenges with God’s help. During the whole process, it is really important to love people right where they are. This also includes ourselves! We need to learn to see the good in others while we are trying to help them overcome bad habits or challenges and reach the potential they may not even see yet.         

            As I went along, I realized “there are several ways up a mountain” and I needed to find different ways to reach the women I hoped to visit. I needed to learn to trust my instincts and be willing to accept rejection. I gradually learned to be “thick skinned” and vulnerable at the same time. I had to be okay with most of the women not wanting me to come back for a second visit. (I visited approximately 500 women, but I visited many of those women more than once. I ended up visiting the ones who needed the most help several times.) Some visits were very uncomfortable and I often stumbled over my words. To this day, I’m not sure why I was supposed to visit a few of the women. During those particular visits, I reminded myself that there will never be a time when it is okay to not be kind. This also applies to challenging relationships with a family member or someone we are trying to help in general. God can help us find the balance of maintaining boundaries and being assertive, while still being kind and loving. We may need to reevaluate occasionally how we can be less rigid or judgemental in our interactions with other people. If there are differences in religious belief, it’s important to remember not to dilute doctrine, but we can always soften the way we interact with people.

            In summary, I was still very anxious in the beginning. At first, it was all about me – until I figured out what I needed to do. I used to not understand how I could serve people because I don’t cook, sew, or have other obvious talents. However, God gradually showed me what I could do as I continued visiting and He gave me the confidence to stretch out of my comfort zone to do it. I learned to look beyond my own needs and made myself vulnerable in the process. Occasionally, the anxiety would overwhelm me again and I had to remind myself why I was visiting in the first place. The original prompting continued to build my confidence, though, and I knew it wasn’t about me anymore. This journey changed my life in significant ways and I will never be the same. Instead of hiding, I learned to look outward. I truly found myself as I lost myself in loving and serving other people. 

Chapter 9: Walking Therapy

            I was inspired to start walking in the fall of 2010, but it wasn’t an overnight success. I gradually increased my stamina as I walked to a destination near our home each day. After a while, I realized I was noticing the fluffy or wispy clouds in the sky, the leaves on the trees (and the crunch, crunch, crunch as I walked through them on the ground), the flowers growing beside the sidewalk, the outline of the mountains against the sky, and the beautiful sunsets. I started taking pictures as I walked, which was a hobby that had faded during my depression. As winter set in, I made the conscious decision to go walking, especially when the sky was gray (and even when it was raining or snowing). Prior to this, Seasonal Affective Disorder was something I struggled with during the winters – its acronym is SAD and that’s absolutely how gray days made me feel. However, it only looks gray when you’re inside, looking out the windows. When I actually went outside to walk, I could still see and feel the light of the sun – even if it didn’t shine as bright or feel as warm as it normally did. This taught me an important lesson about looking up – to the sun in the sky and also to the Son of our Heavenly Father.

            During that time of strengthening, I listened to music by my favorite inspirational singer, Hilary Weeks. Her CD titled “Every Step” (2011) felt like a soundtrack for the progress in my life. (I attended a benefit concert in Hilary’s home during August 2012 and she autographed my CD cover along with this message, “May the Lord bless your ‘every step.’”) With her permission, I share the lyrics to her song, “Dancing in the Rain.”

…The storm had rolled in…

I thought about going back to bed

Or reading the book on my nightstand

I considered calling the weather man

Just to ask him when it might end

But I did something you would not have thought

I grabbed my polka dot umbrella

And I opened the door…

Chorus:

And I danced

In the rain

I let my dreams know I hadn’t forgotten them

I let my heart take the lead and I told my hopes

To get themselves up again

And I danced (to the music of the day)

And I looked (for the blue above the gray)

Yes I danced

In the rain

I invited my worries to step aside

I need room to see in front of me

As the raindrops fell on my overcoat

I let them roll right off of my back

And I waited for the rainbow

Cause Heaven and me, we both know

This storm is gonna pass 

I danced till my fears washed away

Then I thanked the rain for coming… today 

            I flew to Alabama with my parents to visit my sister in January 2011. This trip required me to stretch far outside my current comfort zone of staying close to home, which helped me realize I was making progress emotionally. It also helped me see my life from a different angle. At that time, I weighed 167 pounds, which is the heaviest I have ever been (including pregnancy). When I returned home, I talked with my husband and we made a basic plan for me to eat less carbohydrates and more protein – which basically meant avoiding obvious sugar. I began to faithfully log everything I put in my mouth using myfitnesspal.com. It helped me track my weight loss, along with reminding me to walk each day, do my floor exercises, and drink more water. I lost an average of three pounds each month and reached my goal weight of 121 pounds in May 2012.

            Prior to that in March 2012, I flew by myself to visit my brother and sister-in-law in Colorado, which was another victory in my emotional recovery. Two months later, they flew to Salt Lake and I joined them on a flight to Hawaii to visit our parents who were serving a mission at BYU-Hawaii. It was the first time I had been to Hawaii and May was the perfect time to go. I was excited to celebrate the loss of those 46 pounds by shopping for new shorts, capris, polo shirts, and tees before I left. I was now in size 6 and 8 (small), rather than 12 and 14 (large). It was a great feeling to see that physical proof of my achievement. I was so proud of these emotional and physical accomplishments and was grateful for the chance to celebrate in such an exciting way.

            There were still times when I didn’t feel strong and sometimes it felt like waves of depression were washing over me. However, I refused to go back to bed. When I wasn’t motivated to walk or was tempted to fall back into old eating habits, I reminded myself that I lost the equivalent weight of a water softener salt bag from Costco. Those bags are heavy! I just kept putting one foot in front of the other. During that whole process, I continued listening to Hilary Weeks’ “Every Step” CD.  With her permission, I share the lyrics to her song, “That’s Who I Am.”

I can feel myself breathe

Really breathe again…

I won’t ever stop trying

This is my story

And I’m still writing

I’m uncovering strength

I’ve never felt before

There’s a fire inside

That’s never burned before

My fears are all dying

It’s time to spread my wings

And start flying

Chorus:

This moment is mine and I’m gonna take it

Today is a gift

I will embrace it

I am strong and I believe that’s who I’m meant to be

Every step that I take is lifting me higher

Every corner I turn the future is brighter

I’m brave enough to face the storm

And I’ll stand

That’s who I am 

It’s not about the race

It’s not how fast I run

It’s finding out what’s inside

And who I can become

It’s all about letting go and holding on

It’s about taking chances

 And staying strong     

            I walked and talked with a friend in September 2012. She wrote about it on her blog later that day and I will share a few sentences that warmed my heart and strengthened my confidence. “I went walking with a friend that I haven’t visited with (face-to-face) in maybe two years? It’s been a really long time. This wonderful friend of mine has been challenged by bipolar disorder for at least 25 years. She is an extremely faithful friend and remarkable example of someone who presses forward in the face of her mountains to climb. The first thing I noticed about my friend was that she had lost so much weight…. She has also made HUGE progress in other areas of her life…. In every way, she is doing the best she has done in years. I made a mental note that during our conversation, she seems the most steady and grounded as she has ever seemed…. What I wish you could have heard in our conversation was the confirmation in both of our hearts as we talked about the power of small, simple actions based on decisions to change. The power of going on a walk, once. Then twice. Then again the next day…”

            About five years later, another friend emailed me this quote by Søren Kierkegaard, “Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Every day, I walk myself into a state of well-being & walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it. But by sitting still, & the more one sits still, the closer one comes to feeling ill. Thus if one just keeps on walking, everything will be all right.”

            I couldn’t agree more. Those small and simple steps added up to miraculous changes.

Chapter 8: Living Productively with Mental Illness

            I have struggled with depression, some obsessive-compulsive tendencies, and anxiety (especially in social situations) for most of my life. My clinical diagnosis is Bipolar II Disorder, which is less severe than Bipolar I. It includes depressive episodes, alternating with some mild euphoric episodes called hypomania, along with some periods of relatively stable mood. Depression, whether it’s a from a chemical imbalance or a response to difficult situations, affects every aspect of a person’s life. I often felt like I was figuratively slogging through the mud in a thick fog. It negatively affects the way I feel about myself, my relationships with others, and my connection to God. It distorts my thinking, drains my energy, and shatters my hope. It is so much deeper than a case of the blues and a person can’t just “pull up their bootstraps” or “snap out of it” as some people erroneously believe.

            At several times in my life, I have been desperate for some positive change, but I felt helpless to move forward. With the support of my family, I have worked with psychiatrists who have experience prescribing the right type, combination, and dosage of medication for a chemical imbalance. That process often requires careful observation and adjustments over time. I have simultaneously worked with several psychologists and therapists who have helped teach me tools and skills to cope better with my emotional struggles. That process sometimes requires patience to find a comfortable client-provider fit. A good therapist provides a safe environment to work through struggles with an effective balance of empathy and encouragement. Those two steps are very important, but they are usually just the beginning steps in the journey. They helped me start to climb out of the deep, dark pit that felt so real and all-encompassing and over the initial overwhelming hump. That part of recovery isn’t always well understood, but it is foundational to the process.

            I knew the medication was working within the first few days because I could start functioning again and I felt my real personality beginning to return over the following weeks.  Then I had to work very hard each day to continue to progress. In 2011, the Lord taught me how to change by focusing on one thing at a time – the scriptures use the terms “line upon line, precept upon precept” (2 Nephi 28:30) and “…continued from grace to grace…” (D&C 93:13). I needed to be willing to develop new habits, even if I didn't feel like it or think it was possible. Although it seemed completely counter-intuitive, I was finally able to push through the level of depression and anxiety that was debilitating to a more manageable level after practicing those habits for quite a while. During that time, I had to re-train my brain to think more clearly. I learned to think about my progress in terms of “small or something,” instead of “all or nothing.” I needed to work diligently to overcome my perfectionistic tendencies. It was important to learn how to be gentler with myself, especially when it appeared I had failed. Then I had to learn to rebound every time I fell. I try to never compare myself to others, but only to myself, to make sure I continue to progress as steadily as possible at my own pace. 

            One of the most important things I started doing was to walk to destinations all over town to give me a relatively safe way to practice leaving the house. I continued to spend time walking out in the sun—especially on gray days, when it was difficult to notice the sun. That helped the endorphins to start flowing. The fresh air (and vitamin D) also helps to keep my emotional perspective realistic. In addition, it was really important for me to listen to inspirational and upbeat music. (The songs that helped me the most are by my favorite inspirational singer, Hilary Weeks.)  Music with positive lyrics helps change my thinking more quickly when I get stuck in a figurative rut and it helps my thoughts to begin spiraling upward, instead of their natural tendency to spiral downward. The final missing link for me was people and I will discuss the importance of that in the next section of my journey.

            In addition to sincere prayer, I asked for priesthood blessings and they have strengthened me along the way. The Savior’s atonement has helped me during every step of this process. I was willing to do the difficult work, but His power made it all happen. My struggles with depression aren’t completely over, but my life is significantly different now than it was a decade ago when I was so depressed and anxious the majority of the time. I want to emphasize that my progress has been a balanced effort with many contributing factors, but the main factor is my willingness to keep moving my feet. I continued to take small steps in various areas of my life and gradually built more productive habits. I have made slow, but relatively steady, progress. There have been many challenges along the way and there will continue to be more in the future. However, I’m confident that as I continue to apply these principles, I won’t be defeated.