Almost 2 weeks later

It's been almost 2 weeks since my last  "broken" post.  I had many things happen that weekend, but I've also had other things happen the weekend after and just the past few days.

 My job in the school system is over for the year.  Today was my last day and I'm glad.  I had thought that I would get quite a bit of unemployment and could mostly take it easy this summer while I work on getting projects done and healing, but that is not to be.  I will only make 161$ a week. This will not allow me to pay all the bills I have. while I will be able to work 5 hours a week and maybe 10 hours a week, that plus unemployment will not be enough, which means I'll need to get at least a part time job.

I know I could easily go get a home caregiver job, but that will not allow me to heal from the last year.  I have a tendency to get attached to people, to do more than is required and it usually doesn't serve me well.   I've been down about having to work.  BUT, last weekend I was mostly alone and realized that the summer with out enough people contact could not be beneficial for me either.  For the first time I had thought maybe I'd need to get a part time job, just to fill the empty space.  Perhaps that was preparing me for what I would find out just days latter.

 You know that LDS pamphlet One For The Money by Elder Marvin J. Ashton (who I hugged at Ricks college years ago)?  I got one over a month ago in RS and I did what it said to do: create a debt-elimination calendar.  With out counting the bank loan that is automatically taken out of my account monthly, if I pay 250 a month on the credit cards I will be out of debt in 3.5 years.  I don't know if that is possible, but I will give it my best shot.

I put new/more duct tape on my car yesterday.  I need to keep that thing running for 3.5 years, basically running it into the ground, until I can afford a car payment.  :(

After Friday the 18th, I woke up Saturday morning wanting to go to the temple.  That is big for me.  Lately I have gone out of duty and obedience. So I was able to get on a 4pm session.  As is typical these days when the lights go down and the movie begins, I bawl.  Again a caring sister held my hand.  Oh, how I'm so thankful for that. I may have been turning my head every which way looking as if I was confused or looking for an answer. I don't know if I physically moved my head around, but mentally I was.  I was OVERWHELMED with being distraught, not knowing how I could be able to move on from this mess, how I would be able to get out of my head the intense pain of what others think of me, who didn't REALLY know what was going on. I had been going to my bishop, going to counseling, etc, but nothing seemed to help.  It was the 1 year anniversary of me leaving Washington and yes, Jason, but I honestly didn't know how this would ever not be in my heart and on my mind in 10 years even after the debt had been paid.

Finally in having no where to turn I cried out in my head to the Lord to take this from me.  And he did almost immediately.  The anger was gone and I could be at peace the rest of the session.  I was even able to open the scriptures up in the celestial room.  The phrase "broken cisterns" came to my mind as if to confirm the idea of being broken. While I could not find a scripture with cisterns  I did find this one:

Isaiah 6:1 and Luke 4:18.... he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted,....

This brought immense peace and as I messaged with another friend on FB I spoke of this verse and in trying to find it again found others. Such as Psalms 34: 18 The Lord is nigh unto them that are of a broken heart; and ^asaveth such as be ^bof a contrite spirit.   Or D&C 138:42  And ^aIsaiah, who declared by prophecy that the Redeemer was anointed to bind up the broken-hearted,......

I had spoken with my counselor about fasting for an extended period of time, telling him about my fathers 2 week fast only drinking water.  It was suggested that I just have a meaningful sincere fast of just 24 hours.  While at the temple I felt to do that.  I had not eaten lunch yet and so began my fast.  

Sunday came and the choir sang beautifully the primary song "If the Savior Stood Beside Me."  I decided that I needed to go to choir and I did that day.

I went to RS and the lesson was suppose to be on the eternity of the soul.  It started out with the sisters sharing about how the plan helps then when loosing someone to death and that thought came to my mind that what we all need to have is an eternal perspective and in thinking and saying this, I knew I had not been doing that at all.  I have been stuck in the pain and the anguish of the here and now.   As I was speaking I broke down- really broke down and a sister I didn't know left her seat and came to hug me.  As the lesson went on, I shared again about my experience in the temple and how I was feeling about those who thought I was the bad guy.  I wept again and more stories came out about divorce.  It felt like a divorce support group-what one is suppose to be like. I heard much worse stories than mine; greater debt, extreme lies, loosing children, etc.  One sister told me to get over myself.  While I understand where she is coming from my pain and anguish wasn't just about the divorce.  It's about the money, the financial strain, not being able to put food on my own table.  It's about leaving my HOME of 20 plus years and all my friends and support system.  It's about not liking my job, really needing to do something different, but HOW?  It's about the abuse I've suffered from.  It's about the less than effective SA program here.  It's about the possibility of never being married again, not having children. It's about how I've screwed up at work quite a bit.  It's not Simple. It's not. But I did go home feeling better.

Then I went to choir practice and we sang the hymn Sweet Hour of Prayer.  I wrote this in my journal: And since he bids me seek his face, Believe his word, and trust his grace, I'll cast oh him my every care, And wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer.

He's asking us to seek his face.  Joseph Smith wanted us all to find out about God.  We are to cast on him our every care and wait for HIM!  I always thought it was wait for the hour of prayer. 

Then I find this on line:

What are our myths of Peter? How do the scriptures make meaning out of him?

Peter is the one who walks on water, but gets frightened and sinks (Matt 14: 28-31), the one who tries to defend the Prince of Peace by cutting off a servant's ear (John 18: 10), the one who denies Christ and bitterly weeps (Matt 26: 75), the one who has and embraces a movement-changing vision (Acts 10: 9-28),
but later gets rebuked by Paul for being afraid of revealing how far
that vision has taken his faith from his people's customs (Gal 2: 11-14).

Our myth of Peter is a one of our greatest myths of discipleship and church
leadership. It is about miraculous faith accompanied by devastating
failures in faith, about startling visions and doctrines coupled with
burdensome day-to-day business and persistent inequalities. We don't
expect Peter to do everything right, or to embody every positive
principle. Part of his myth is the ways that he falls short and fails.
(Can we see Christ's grace in Peter's stumbling?)

I think if Peter goes through stuff like this, then I guess It's normal for me too.  I guess I don't have to compare myself to Laurel, to Paige, to Aimee, to Nikki, to Sarah my sister. ( As I closed the folding walls I thought of my YW room and those years with Rachel and Linda Pope and Dawn Thompson and the thought of sitting there again and having to share my life with the Aimee, Paige, Nikki, and others- I sure as heck wouldn't.  I would want to be just like I was then, full of anger, hiding under it) My trials do not take away my worth as one of the woman said after relief society.  And that's what I've been doing. Thinking that due to my trial,( of over 20 years) I am again "less than".  Less of a person with Less worth.

I called Ruth and heard her sad story.  No longer do I judge.  Her situation is SO much worse than mine and regardless of it being some of her making, it is TERRIBLE.  I'm sure she feels more of a failure than I do, wants her life to end more than I do. I do not want her trials.

On Monday during recess I sung in my head that primary song "If The Savior Stood Beside Me" every time I felt negative thoughts about the kids. It did well until recess #3 and I took the tune and made up songs of the mean things I'd want to do with the kids. 

However I felt as if I had turned a corner.  The anger was gone for a week and much if not most of it is gone completely. 

The next Friday I missed my meds and Sat I was a mess and spent an hour writing in my journal about all those and other girls/women I grew up with and comparing my life to theirs.  That is not healthy.  Comparison is the thief of joy.

Broken or Whole? I can't decide.

from someone I met once; Jennifer:

It’s never sat right with me—calling myself by that term. *SINGLE* Defining myself by the thing I lack.


I was genuinely more happy once I lost myself in my life and in possibility. 

my time isn’t about me “pampering myself,” it’s about me surviving...


I have diligently tried over the last two, maybe three, years to not let my relationship status deter or define me.

Becky's Voice now: 


In counseling today I told him that I want to drown myself.  Then at the end I told him I want to kill somebody.  Then I quoted from a pin:  "I used to be a people person, but people ruined that for me." He laughed. He knows I'm not serious about those things, just a way of saying how I feel.


He says I see myself as "broken", but I am not. His advice, is to count my blessings.  I know that sounds cliche, but he didn't say it like that.  It's more about living in the now and, like Jennifer said, in possibility. 

The thing is I've felt broken my whole life. elementary school, HS, my mission, college, YSA life- all of it- I felt broken, and I thought marriage would fix me- I'd have someone to love me, to put cement in the cracks and make me whole and better. Not just better-not-sick-anymore, but better as in a better me. I also wanted marriage so someone would take care of me and so I would fit in and to be on the right path and to have children.


I got married and I got more broken and couldn't even take care of myself let alone him.  


Jason, my counselor says I'm not broken.  OK, I'll try and believe that. Depressed- yes, beaten down- yes, unsure- yes, but I am whole- I guess.  


Jewels song "Hands" ran through my mind in counseling.  

My hands are small I know but they aren't yours they are my own,
and I am never broken.... In the end, only kindness matters.

It makes sense on a level never felt before. So maybe this should be my new theme, the words I say to myself when I feel broken or less than.  Those last 2 words, those are the words I've felt about myself for so long- so less than.  And you know what- that phrase is what my patriarchal blessing says I will do- help those less fortunate then me.  So, that means I can't be all that broken- right?  There are others more broken, others with less than what I have, so that should make that blessing list doable- right? 


I'm still trying to convince myself. I think you'll be able to tell when I believe it. 

Counseling Again

I'm going to counseling again.  Yesterday was my first visit with Jason (ironic-no?).  He's been practicing for 18 years, is LDS and has lived in Olympia Washington, so he feels my pain with the whole Idaho is pathetic thing.

I've been to counseling a lot.

I went twice at Ricks with a different counselor each time, each year.  I'm a firm believer that everyone in college should  take advantage of the free counseling if they need to.  Everyone has 'ghosts' 

I even went on my mission a few times.

Then USU, I went to a group session which was good and saw a few other counselors too for a short while.

I went to this volunteer retired so called counselor through LDS Social Services while in CA.  He'd fall asleep and really didn't help at all.  Jason told me the 'counselors' at the above mentioned place are social workers, not counselors.  There is a difference!

I went a few times while living in WA twice to different counselors.  I wish I would of gone to more, especially when after the whole Eric V episode.  It took me a year and a half to get that out of my system.  The first year I'd go over and over it in my head daily and multiple times.   The last six months It was more random, not every day.  I wondered last night how my life would of been different had I found professional help.  Maybe I would of been told that Prozac only works 10 years, not 17 and the next few years would of been completely different.  Maybe I wouldn't of made the same mistakes I made ten years later.

While I was married I saw 2 different counselors specifically for me.  Another male counselor was there for Jason too and I came with.  Jason met with all of the women  that I met with at least once.  However counseling with him didn't work.

Then a saw a woman through the Nampa Family Justice Center.  She wasn't LDS and had all these false ideas about Mormon men being controlling. (Huge EYE ROLL)  She wasn't very nurturing.
I even went to a "pattern changing" class that was helpful with other women in unhealthy relationships.

I'm glad to be seeing Jason.  I believe I've got the right person.  He's going to help me 'reclaim my life'.  He gave me the straight talk I needed.

Going for Help

I had a weekend of DRAMA and I guess I need or want to share some of it with you. I know some will think it's inappropriate, but it's my blog and I'm super open and I don't think any of the offending parties will ever see this.

I went to see my bishop after church on Sunday for 3 things: 1. I needed a food order, 2. I need to go to counseling and to have the ward help with that either through LDS social services or another company. 3. I needed help to pay for my medication. I heard through the grapevine that the church has to pay for medicine if you can't afford it. I still have no idea if it is true or not. When Jason lost his unemployment we went yo our bishop and got 3 things: rent paid, food orders, and our electricity/water bill paid. We only asked for 2 of those things.

The evening I moved in the bishop was there and I was telling him why I moved and what was going on in my life. Either he asked what I needed or I just plain out told him I needed counseling. He gave me this strange little look and nothing much was said.

I had been paying for Corba and it looked like I couldn't pay anymore. If not, then no insurance and my medication would be more expensive.

So here I am in the bishop's office with him behind his desk and me in front (not an intimate, I care about you, we are equals setting). I told him what I needed. The food order was no problem. But the counseling- Why? - it was just a divorce, right? We'll I would have to help with that. Almost the tears started to come- I can't. I have no money to even pay ANY bills at all. Then the medication thing. Hold on, he said- I'm on anti-depressants??? He doesn't get it. He never takes anything for a headache. When things were hard as a kid he was told to buck up and deal with it and he did. I proceed to tell him that I have been on anti-depressants since I was 19! (I'll be 39 this summer). That really set him off. Questions such as when are you going to get off of them? Have the doctors said anything about that? I was shocked at even the thought. I had never considered it. I just assumed it would be life long. NO doctor has ever said anything about getting off of them.

Then he starts to tell me this story about this man he knows who was suicidal and went up into the mountains to kill himself. Once up there he realized he did value his life, however he got lost for days. In the time of being lost he realized that he needed to go off of his anti-depressants and deal with it himself. Since then he has been fine, has worked through things and so that's what I need to do, which is rely on the Lord, pull myself up from my boot straps and deal with life which had more hardships than good times. During this lecture, he's getting more passionate about it and i'm listening, but also trying to explain:

1. It's a genetic thing- I have a brother and sisters on medication. I have nieces and nephews on medication.
   
2. It's also a chemical thing- The brain is an organ and when it doesn't work right there are things that help and often fix it. We would never say to some one with diabetes- sorry, no meds for you, just turn to the Lord, or someone with a broken bone- sorry- it will heal on it's own, just wait. It will be painful, but you can deal with it with prayer. I even tried to explain neurotransmitters.
3. I explained that it was my "infirmity" that I was given. He didn't believe a word I said. Not a word.I even told him that had I had meds during HS it would of been completely different. That in the 5th grade I knew something just wasn't right with me. He asked me who told you that? No one!
   

He wanted me to explore the idea of getting off the meds! I told him not now, but i would look in to it. I mean here I am: going through a divorce at 38 years old, after finally getting married and being single in this married family and church, then I move to a new area completely, have no work and can't pay any bills. That in and of itself would say COUNSELING! He tells me about a talk by Ezra Taft Benson before he was prophet about 12 things to do to be happy- you know that Sunday school answer- read, pray, etc. I tell him I've done those things since I was 16! He says, yes but do you feel the spirit? What kind of a question is that? Just before I went in I was standing next to him and his counselor. I told his counselor that I enjoyed his talk 2 Sunday's ago and that I really felt the spirit! The bishop knows I've been a seminary teacher, an ordinance worker, he's heard my comments in gospel doctrine. I found that question offensive.

So what does he do? He goes to one of the clerks that is a pharmacist and proceeds to tell me where and how I can get free meds, and where I can get free mental health help. I'm in shock! So the basic message is the church won't help you- go to the community. By this I'm in tears and am walking out. I came for understanding, compassion and help. I got none of that, but a lecture and at best him trying to convince me of his opinion.

I go home in tears. I call my counselor in Bellevue who has been wonderful enough to call me every week, to give me support and suggestions of what to do, IE- get counseling there, find a divorce support group, find a book on grieving, etc. Then I call my brother-in-law Mike, who is a family doctor, and has been a bishop. He himself suffers from SAD: seasonal affect disorder. I tell him I want to find all these articles on line that explain things. He says that I could go to the Ensign to find articles. He suggests I have my old bishop call him. I want a blessing from him and my brother. They come, but while I'm waiting, I call Scott Bowen who was my bishop, and a member of my Stake Presidency is also a doctor/radiologist. He tells me the bishop is just naive, that I'm doing the absolute right thing in not going back to my marriage, and to go see the Stake President. My brother Karl suggests the same thing. I tell them this story:

The Sunday previous I bear my testimony about Joseph Smith, The book of Mormon, the Savior, the importance of keeping the commandments and sticking with the gospel regardless of what happens in your life because it's all still true! Then at the end I get emotional and tell them that I'm going through the hardest time in my life and I really need their help to get through, that I'm a firm believer in bearing one another's burdens, that I'm usually not a charity case, but now I am. The Stake President is there, on the stand not even cracking a smile once- seriously not even once! After the mtg is over he walks right by me, right by me and says absolutely nothing. Here's the main shepherd and after a testimony like that you'd think he'd want to meet me, to find out more about me, to offer me his support. Both Scott and Karl think this is strange.

I get a blessing about being able to take some advice and leaving others behind. I feel better. I already know that he was not speaking as a bishop, but as his regular self. I go to a dinner with some fun women. We eat, we play games and then I head home and the RS pres. comes to do the order. I go off on her, am rude, etc. She wants to leave, doesn't want to be treated like that. OK. I'm a jerk. How can she support me? Ever heard of validation. Janea thinks that's weird, RS presidents should be used to dealing with people in crisis! And that is what I am, in CRISIS. I apologize through email the next day. I have 5 talks for the bishop to read from the church magazines and pictures of brains that are depressed and brains that are not, plus a note telling him how the meeting felt to me. It has yet to go out.

I'd really just like to keep my distance. I'm sure they both think the worst of me. The RS president asked if I was on my meds now. Did Jason come? For crying out loud, can anyone see high stress levels for what they are?

I don't mean to speak evil of the Lord's anointed, but really... Where is the compassion?