Change is always good

Big changes are coming to Maybrooke. 

And I mean BIG. 

(Speaking of BIG, look at how big this slugger is!)

Change gives me anxiety. It makes my stomach twist and turn and I feel sick. My hands get painfully cold (I have Raynauds Syndrome) and my face gets hot and I can't focus on anything. 

My mom used to always say, "Change is always good." 

And she is right. It is what you make it to be. But If I could, I would stay in my cozy little comfort zone and never leave. But this change is good. It will be hard and it might be stressful, but it will be good.

Say hello to my two new managers!!! 

I have put in my two weeks notice at my work. I'll still be working a couple of days a week at another location but we are doing it so I can be home with my sweet little heroes more. 

No more stressful, rushed and often miserable mornings. No more stressing because one boy is sick and I can't be there. No more crying my heart out when my mom texts me to tell me Drew learned a new word or Ben rolled over and I missed it. No more messes sitting around the house, patiently waiting for Saturday to come. No more afternoon traffic or going to work looking like a truck hit me because I was up all night with a baby. No more waiting until 3PM to eat because that is literally the only chance I get to eat something. 

I'm looking forward to spending my days barefoot, in an apron and working hard to make this work. There will be a lot of budgeting and meal planning, but I'm REALLY looking forward to running Maybrooke more and doing more fun things with my little heroes. And I plan on blogging it the whole way. 

P.S. Did you notice the blog makeover? Not sure if I like it just yet... It may or may not change again. 

Happy Wednesdee! 

The Bully

Bully: A person who uses strength or power to harm or intimidate someone weaker. 

Everyone knows a bully. Everyone has been bullied or maybe even been the bully themselves. 

I wasn't too popular in school. I knew it. I was different. Even a little weird. Sometimes I was ok with it and sometimes I wasn't. But I wish I had confidence then like I do now. 

I am going to share a few of my personal bully experiences but I'm not doing it for a pity party. I promise there is a point to it. :) 

I can distinctly remember the night after cheerleader try outs my 8th grade year. I made the squad. I had celebrated with my family, I called my grandparents, and texted my friends all night. Before I went to shower I plugged my phone in to charge. When I came back I had a miss call and a voicemail. I can still hear the voice on the message so clearly. 

"U-G-L-Y! U-G-L-Y! You ugly!" 

I remember looking at myself in my bedroom floor length mirror as I listened. My scrawny 13 year old self. And I burst into tears. Because I believed it. And I believed it for a long time. I never told anyone about the message. I was so embarrassed about it. But I let it control my thoughts for too long. 

Another time was the summer before my senior year. I was in the choir presidency and we were having a meeting at a park. I was waiting for a ride from a dear friend in my ward. 

I heard her pull up and knock on the door. 

I opened the door ready to go. And then I noticed her nervous expression. 

"I didn't do it," she said. 

"I don't know who did. But you need to come see this." 

And there, on my very own driveway, in permanent marker, someone wrote, "Avery is a.... (Long list of profanities)." 

Thankfully my mom is a master as getting stains out so she immediately scrubbed it off. I went to the meeting (that didn't last long because no one else showed up) and then I went home. I remember staring at the spot where the message was and wondering what I did to make someone hate me so much. This bullying incident is probably the closest I ever came to experiencing depression before I had children. 

Now, here I am. Just a few months away from my 21st birthday. I'm a little more confident in myself and I've learned to shake off rude comments and ignore bullies like everyone says to. 

Except one. 

There is a bully who just won't leave me alone. She is cruel. She is unforgiving. And she is hard to ignore because she is me. 

Some of the symptoms of PPD are feelings of helplessness, guilt and inadequacy. This second round of PPD wasn't as obvious as the first. It started with little thoughts here and there. 

"I snapped at Tyler. That was bad. I'm ashamed and sorry. I need to do better." 

"I can't keep up with the house work. I am just not cut out to be a good wife and mother." 

"I just sounded like an idiot in front of a customer. I just need to keep my dumb mouth shut. No wonder no one wants to hang out with me."

I am the bully. 

A fellow PPD survivor recently said, "Be kind to yourself." 

And every time one of those mean thoughts comes into my head I can hear those words. 

Be kind to yourself. 

I can't run from this bully. 

But I can stand up for myself.

And I'm ready for this bully to be gone for good. 

Then vs Now

When I wrote up my Post-Birth Plan I had a section that was specifically for doing things that I loved. Things that made me happy. 

The list included things like: 

• learn a new song to sing to the boys

• go to see a movie in theatre (which is a rare treat when you have small children and are poor!) 

• go on walks 

• go somewhere new 

(We went to the dinosaur park.) 

• create something big and fun for our house 

We made this. And we love it but now we have strangers that stand in front of our yard or people that pull over to look at it. 

I didn't do those things the first time around. I was lucky to even write a journal entry. And when I did, it was of things not worth remembering. Those entries are full of anxiety. Thoughts of not being good enough for Andrew or Tyler. 

At one point I wrote, "I'm trapped. I'm being held prisoner in my own mind. And I have no idea how to get out. It's so dark. My thoughts are not my own. HELP ME!" 

I don't feel that darkness now. Not like before. I can tell something is not quite right though. 

For example: A dear friend was looking at my pictures on my phone and said, "You take great pictures! You should be a photographer! I'd pay you!" 

I got excited about the idea. I started to day dream about it and looked into cameras and classes. And then it hit me. Completely out of no where. I burst into tears and had a terrible crying spell. I cried so hard that I puked. It was one of the worst anxiety attacks I have ever had. I hardly ate the next couple of days and I didn't want to take a picture at all. After a few days I was fine. 

A few days later I had another bad anxiety attack, but this time it was because I felt like I wasn't a good mom. Andrew was sick and was calling for Nana and I just lost it. I thought I had lost him for good and that my mom might as well just keep him because I clearly wasn't good enough. That hit me HARD. 

After a priesthood blessing from Tyler and  a reminder that I would probably want to go to my mom too if she'd let me eat all the Oreos I want, I felt a bit better. But that pain stayed with me. I carried it like a weight on my heart. 

It was at that point that Tyler noticed I had lost "the spark in my eyes" as he put it. I didn't want to write, read, craft, sing or go for a walk anymore. We argue more. I now cry over the simplest little things. Even while sticking to my plan for my low days, (like making that sign for our yard- we finished it a week early, hoping that crafting would help boost my spirits.) I can't seem to get back up. It's kind of like feeling yourself lose your mind, but being completely helpless to it. The walls are closing in.

But I think I caught it early enough that it won't turn into that dark, cold place like before. I never want to be in that dark state again. Ever. 

A lot of my dear friends and even strangers have reached out to me after my last post. And it means SO much to me that I'm not alone in this. Even with different problems, any mental disorder is like a cancer of the mind. It is just as serious as any other physical disorder. Mental health is SO important. And I wish it was more normal to speak of instead of being this painful secret. 

Thank you for all the support! I know I can beat it this time. :)