November Update

Hello hello!

     I can't believe it has already been a month since my last update. Time really does go by quickly. As always, if you're reading this, thank you so, so much for your love and support. It means more than I can say. In the spirit of Thanksgiving, I can honestly say I'm thankful for each and every one of you. Your cards, letters, phone calls, check-ups, messages, prayers, and unspoken support have all helped me more than you know.

     This month, like last month, had a handful of ups and downs. I'll start with the positives. I've managed to visit BG four times! (Three times since the trip last month.) The first two trips I stayed overnight at one of my best friend's apartments and my dad stayed in a hotel nearby. The most recent time, I stayed for an entire weekend and on the second night, my dad went back home. (Edit: At first I was too embarrassed to include that part, but I want to be as open and honest with everyone as possible. I mean, no one wants to admit that they're 21 years old and needed their dad to stay nearby while they visited friends, but that's where I am, and I want this blog to be as raw as it comes. Letting him go home the second night was a huge step for me.) I had the chance to be with my friends, visit the on-campus church I used to attend, and watch the choir I used to be in perform their incredible fall concert. It was a complete success and honestly, I didn't want to return home. I also had my first cake pop, which took me to an entirely new level of living. All in all, I made a lot of progress this month.

     Of course, nothing in life is perfect. There have also been some downs. Pharmacologically speaking, we changed one medication and, depending on what happens at my next appointment, could possibly be changing it again. Anxiety medications are a big game of trial and error, for a long list of scientific reasons that I won't go into here. It can be hard to find the right mix, but I think we're getting close. It's just a long, frustrating process.

     Now then, I know you're all wondering - what about spring semester? Sadly, I don't have an answer. There are a lot of factors playing into this decision. Speaking in terms of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, there's the fact that I don't currently have a place to live. Secondly, my advisor hasn't exactly been the easiest to get in contact with. (I have yet to have an email responded to...) I can only plan so much out on my own. Oh trust me, if I could, I would.

     There's also the problem with my major itself. I'm at the part of my education that involves taking methods classes and going out to different schools to study in the field. This would add extra stress in the form of driving, which is something I still haven't done a lot of since May due to the added anxiety it brings me. Many people have suggested switching my major. Honestly, I don't know what else I would do. Ever since elementary school I've never had any plan other than music education. (I dare you to go back in time and try to tell 11-year-old Kelly that she's doing something else.) I've been doing a lot of praying about this. I've juggled with the idea that maybe God is trying to tell me that with my anxiety, I'm not capable of being a teacher. I don't want to accept that as an answer. I don't want mental illness to rule what I can and can't do with my future, but at the same time, it's a reality I have to face. Perhaps God is trying to tell me something, but if so, I haven't caught onto the message yet.

     In short, the reality right now is that I most likely won't be returning in the spring. I'll let you all know when a final decision is made. It's really weighing me down. I miss everything about being at school. There have been days that I've gotten online and fake scheduled classes through tears. All that I want is to be back living life, making music, and being around my friends. If I could grow wings and fly away, I'd be there in a heartbeat.

     When it comes down to it, I'm getting really frustrated. It's hard being stuck here. I'm in a weird spot. I want more than sitting on the couch, but at the same time, I'm not yet well enough to hop in the car and go and do whatever I want. This is all taking a lot longer than I expected. I've began experiencing a lot of negative thoughts. To be totally open and honest, here are some of the thoughts I've been struggling with: 

I'm never going to get better. I'm going to be stuck on this couch for the rest of my life. I'll never get back to school, I'll never be able to get any degree, and I'll never be able to make music again. My friends are all going to graduate and then I won't have any support system left. I'll never meet a man and fall in love and have my own home. Why can't I be like all my friends, out there living life like a normal person in their twenties? Why can't I be in an apartment, doing homework, cooking mediocre dinners, and playing cards with my roommate? There's no way I'll ever manage to make it out on my own again. I'm pathetic for even trying. 

Combatting these thoughts is nearly impossible most days. I honestly hoped that I'd be magically cured and have my bags packed for school by now. What I'm learning is that, as much as I want to, you can't rush recovery. As much as it kills me, I have no idea how long this is going to take. I can't even predict that it'll happen at all. 

     At the end of the day, my faith still remains. God knows why I'm going through this, even though I don't. I continue to pray that He takes this pain away or teaches me how to live alongside it. I hope that one day He uses this experience for His ultimate good. Until then, I'm stuck here. In my tower. Waiting. Hoping. Wondering when my life will begin. I'm sick of fighting this battle, but I'm not giving up yet, as much as I want to. My thoughts consume me, but they don't kill me. I'm far too competitive to lose to my own brain. I want to win. I will win.

 

God Bless,
Kelly

October Update

Hello everyone!

     As promised, here is my update for the month of October. As usual I'd like to start by thanking each and every one of you who are supporting me through prayer and kind words. The past month has proven to be a mental roller coaster. It started off really well. I was going to church on Sunday mornings, helping out with the youth group in the evenings, visiting friends, and seemingly getting better. On the 13th I even made a trip to BG and got to see a ton of my friends. It felt amazing going to choir, grabbing lunch with my voice teacher and some studio friends, and walking around campus again. I felt welcomed back with open arms. Best of all, around 8pm my closest friends threw me a surprise party for my birthday. It was absolutely incredible.

     My sister and brother-in-law visited for a week and I was able to go out to dinner a few times, play games, and ride with them around town. It was really great getting to see them. 

     The last two weeks have been a bit of a different story. My medications got changed around a bit and at first I went downhill. I've been in a low spot struggling with wanting to give up. There have been many days where I've done nothing but sit in a ball watching Netflix. (I know this sounds like Heaven to most people, but after 6 months it starts to get old.) I do my best to hold back from complaining because I truly live a blessed life, but for one paragraph I'm going to let myself vent. Feel free to skip this paragraph if you'd like.

     I'm sick of being stuck on the couch. I'm sick of my brain not doing what I want it to do. I miss my friends and wish they were closer. It stinks that 90% of my support group is over two hours away. I'm tired of my mind constantly running in third gear - I can't even pray without my thoughts interrupting themselves and getting me off track. I'm not near as strong as people think I am. I'm supposed to be this wonderful, strong person fighting to get my life back and return to school. I'm not that person. I'm a ball of personified discomfort curled up in bed, letting everything win because it just isn't fightable. I'm tired of changing medications. I'm tired of taking medications period. I wish there was a sign telling me which chemical is missing and what I need to do to get it back in place. I understand that this is a large game of trial and error, but I'm tired of losing. I don't want to start over again. I really want Chipotle. My brain is divided into a million pieces and somewhere in there is the person I used to be, but I can't hold onto her long enough to get her to stay around before I'm back to thinking that it's impossible to leave the house with how badly I'm feeling. I want my sense of reality back. I don't even know who I am. There's no way I'll ever be back in a place where I can live away from home and finish school. Why am I not getting over this? This is stupid and I hate it. Somebody give me my life back.

     Thank you for that moment. Those are examples of the type of thoughts that go through my head almost every minute of every day. As bad as it is, I continue to praise God. In every season of life He is still God. He is forever good and He gives me a reason to praise and worship Him. There's no denying that I often become doubtful, fearing that He isn't hearing my prayers. Sometimes I think He intends for me to be this way forever (although I consciously know He doesn't.) My well of faith is starting to empty, but it will never run dry. At the end of even the worst days, I have this small strand of faith that I hold onto. It's that strand that keeps me from giving up entirely. God will always be good.

     What I've been beginning to realize is that the logical side of my brain doesn't line up with the emotional side. (Actually, this explains all of my past relationships.) I recognize that logically, I need to get up and find something to do. Emotionally, I'd rather stay in bed for another 4 hours or days or weeks. Logically, I know that going back to BG again isn't going to hurt me and I'm not going to go crazy while I'm up there. Emotionally, I feel like I'll completely lose my cool, freak out, and never want to return ever again. Logically, I'm not supposed to eat sugar because it increases bad chemicals in the brain. Emotionally, I see a piece of cake and... you get the idea.

     So in conclusion, I'm not doing as well as I'd like to be. I'm struggling and, honestly, it's hard to admit that. I am surrounded with blessings and loving friends and family who want me to get better. I want to get better not just for myself, but for you. I want to prove to you all that I can do it, but it's really, really hard. The thought of returning to school, let alone for spring semester, is growing dimmer and dimmer. Thank you all again for reading this, and for your continued support. You all mean the world to me. I'm still trying. I hope that next month's update is a lot more cheerful. Frankly, it's easier to write happy posts. :)

God Bless,

Kelly

One Month Update

Hello everyone!

     A lot of you have been asking me for updates on everything I've been struggling with. First of all, I'd like to thank each and every one of you for your gracious support and outpouring of love. Secondly, since I've been getting so many questions, I've decided that I'll do a monthly update. So here it is!

     It has been a month since school began and six weeks since I would have moved in. I'm experiencing a lot of different emotions on a daily basis. Overall, I've improved a lot on a couple of levels. I've gotten out of the house a little bit more, doing things like taking Wal-Mart trips or walking the dog. I've also managed to go to church twice, where I was welcomed back with open arms. Another positive thing is that I've done some volunteer work at a local summer camp - nothing big, but it got me out of the house. I've started cooking and baking a lot, and I've been finding solace in that. I'd even go as far to say that I'm not too shabby at it (available men, take note.) Finally, I've started driving very short distances. So far I've limited myself to camp and back, so in all reality it's probably only a mile in total, but it's still a pretty big step.

     With that being said, there are still many bad days. Many mornings I wake up and think about how impossible it's going to be to ever go back to school. I get plagued by negative thoughts and emotions. I miss my friends a lot (a LOT) and often think that I'll never see them again because traveling seems so out of the question. I often find myself feeling hopeless or useless. It's rather debilitating. There's a lot more to it, but rather than try and explain it all, I'll leave it at saying that I'm still in a state of extreme discomfort.

     Despite going back to church, reading my Bible daily, keeping a gratitude journal, and pouring out prayer, my faith is starting to really be challenged. I haven't lost hope in God by any means, nor will I ever, but the road is rocky and full of potholes. (Imagine Wooster street this past Spring.) I'm staying obedient and repeatedly reminding myself that His plans are greater than mine, but I can't help but hope that He intervenes soon...

I've been relating a lot with this graphic:

     So at the end of the day, I'm still here. I'm hoping to regain my sense of self soon. I don't know if returning in the spring is in the cards for me, or if I ever will. It's up to God. I'm trying to remain hopeful. I'd really like to be able to handle visiting for my birthday, I mean, who wants to spend their birthday alone with their friends living counties away, am I right? But we'll see what happens. If not, then I'll be thanking the Lord for Skype and cell phones. That's all for now, thank you all from the bottom of my heart for supporting me.


God Bless,
Kelly

First Not Day of School

I love school.

I always have and I always will. (Which is good considering my choice of major.) My favorite day of the year has always been the first day of school. To me, it was a holiday. I would plan out my outfit weeks in advance, wake up early to do my hair, and grab my backpack full of freshly sharpened pencils and blank notebooks just waiting to meet one another. Want proof? Check out my first days of Kindergarten and 1st Grade:

School meant new clothes, new office supplies (which I have an outlandish love for), seeing my friends five days a week, and cartons of chocolate milk on the daily. But more than any of that, it meant learning. I loved absorbing new knowledge. There's just something special about taking your first set of notes for the year. Education was something that was always there for me. Through fights with friends, family hardships, and medical problems, I could always count on going to school and learning something new. I'll echo Irish poet Yeats who once said, "Education is not the filling of a pail, but the lighting of a fire." 

College broadened my horizons. Up until my first day at BGSU, I had never met anyone else who truly loved learning as much as I did. I'll never forget sitting in my first day of Critical Thinking. It was in that class that I realized that I was surrounded by people who felt the same way as I did. I met a professor who challenged my ways of thinking and truly changed education for me. (I'm honestly afraid he's going to see this and judge my writing. Heath if you're reading this, I do apologize greatly.) It was in that classroom that I grasped how blessed I was to be receiving a college education.

With that being said...

Tomorrow is what I'm dubbing my first "not" day of school. For the first time in my life I'm watching all of my friends go to class, meet professors, and grab syllabi while I sit at home. I knew two weeks ago how hard this day was going to be for me, but this article isn't about that. This post is about something different.

The past 24 hours I've witnessed a plethora of tweets, status updates, and text messages of people complaining about classes starting - some with people already looking forward to skipping class. Now I'm not here to judge them or tell them they're wrong. I have endured PLENTY of papers I didn't want to write, lectures I didn't want to sit through, and days where I just wanted to sleep. I have skipped a class or two myself when I have been ill. College is hard, it really is. It's stressful, challenging, and isn't always fun.

But it's a privilege.

There are millions of people who wish they had the opportunity to pursue higher education. People who long to attend a university but can't due to financial, physical, emotional, situational, or personal reasons. I personally know a handful of people who cannot attend college due to financial setbacks, and my heart hurts for them. Higher education is highly sought after from nation to nation, but not everyone gets the chance. Earning a degree plummets you ahead of the pack. In 2012, the Bureau of Labor Statistics showed that the median weekly wage of a person with a bachelor's degree was 63.5 percent greater than that of a person with only a high school diploma.

But it's not all about the academics. College is a place where you learn about life. You learn that deadlines matter. You learn how to prioritize. You learn that no, you CANNOT microwave Styrofoam. College is a place where you make friends that will last a lifetime. Friends that will make you laugh. Friends that will bring you chicken soup when you're sick. Friends that will challenge you to be a better person. Friends that could later become colleagues. It's a place where you meet professors - both bad and good. There's no doubt that you'll have some professors you don't necessarily care for, but you'll also meet a handful of inspiring adults who shape every part of your being, mentor you on your future career, teach you how to be an adult, and ultimately change the way you look at life. Take in everything you can from these professors. They're much more than just teachers.

I'm by no means telling you all to love school the way I do. You don't even have to like it. But I'm challenging you all to take a step back and conceptualize the realities of the benefits and privileges that coincide with receiving a college education. As you walk across campus today, take five seconds to breathe. Five seconds to just stop and reflect on where you are and how you got there. Five seconds to think about how these four years are going to completely change your life.

Breathe, look around, and remember not to take it for granted.

Life Update

With only a week and a half left until fall semester begins, it's time for me to put on a brave face and come clean with the reality of my current situation.

I will not be returning to BGSU this fall. 

That sentence is the second hardest combination of words I've ever had to come to terms with, with the hardest combination being the reason why: I'm struggling with anxiety and depression.

Now, before today I would have never been able to say that freely, let alone post it on a blog that hundreds of people (ha) could potentially see. Let me explain what my summer was like, where I am now, and what I hope to see in the future.

(If you want to get to the point, feel free to skip down to the dashes.)

I've been struggling with anxiety since the 6th grade, and medicated for it since the 7th. Back in April (it was literally April 1st, go figure) I got the stomach flu. When that happened, my body stopped responding to the meds I had been on for 7 years. Honestly, I was lucky to have gotten that far with one set of meds, but what happened in the following months was what made me so much worse.

If you know me, you know I'm incredibly stubborn when it comes to asking for help when I feel I don't need it (or so I'm told..) My assumption in April was that I'd force my way through the rest of the semester, come home, be slapped with new meds, and be at camp by June. No such luck. I started experiencing what I now know is called depersonalization. At the time, I had no idea what it was. I had to miss choir tour and ended up back home in May. My anxiety was so high that I wouldn't leave the house and I quit driving. I started going to a new doctor and they told me they needed to start from scratch, meaning no camp.

This is where the depression hit. My soul lives for three things: Jesus, music, and summer camp. My favorite 10 weeks of the year are those spent smelling like sweat, smoke, and bug spray while singing silly songs, making bracelets, and seeing campers light up with joy. It's something I've been a part of for 15 years and I never intended to take a break. Watching all my friends go to various camps was bittersweet. I was so happy for them and for the campers they would be impacting, but I felt so useless. Every Tuesday night I would hear the campers at the camp over the hill playing games, and I would break down.

So between having breakdowns every Tuesday, missing camp, feeling useless, being in an unstable home environment (a different story entirely), and then being told I probably wouldn't make it back to school in the fall, I stopped functioning. I wouldn't get out of bed. On top of all of that, I've been to 3 different doctors who have gone through 4 different combinations of medications trying to help the anxiety. I completely lost myself. I was thoroughly convinced that I was crazy. Somedays I still am.

At this point, I'm currently seeing doctor #3 and really enjoying her. I'm on a set of meds that seem to be helping the most compared to the others so far. The meds are starting to help with the depression, but the anxiety is still present. I'm also still struggling with the depersonalization, and I haven't been to church since May. I have been taking baby steps towards recovery such as taking the dog for a walk or going to get ice cream. I even took a huge step by going to see one of my best friends perform a fabulous saxophone recital all the way in Findlay.

---
So with all that being said, although I'm taking baby steps towards recovery, I'm not there yet. I plan on trying to attend church soon, starting to drive short distances, and hopefully make visits to see friends in the coming months. But I'm no longer afraid to talk about it. It's an illness, and it doesn't take any value away from me as a human being. Mental illness shouldn't be stigmatized. People need to stop being afraid of it. Would you stay away from someone because they had diabetes? No. Would you tell someone with heart disease to "just get over it"? No. Would you tell someone with cancer that it's "all in their head"? Absolutely not. Anxiety and depression are real illnesses, just like any other illness, whether it be physical, mental, or behavioral. It requires medication. It requires hard work. It even requires that scary T-word: Therapy. I'm not trying to blame my actions or quirks on my anxiety, I'm just finally realizing that I'm not crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm just sick. And I'm finally getting help.

These next four months are going to suck. They're going to be really freaking hard. Watching all my friends go back to RA training, seeing statuses as people buy books and move-in... it all hurts. A huge chunk of my heart is in Northwest Ohio. And I'm recognizing that there are still going to be days where I don't get out of bed. There will be days where I'm too afraid to leave the house, thinking I'm crazy. And there will be times when I feel stranded and alone because my friends are far away while I'm stuck here unhappy. I'm still finding the right combination of meds. Anxiety has and still is robbing me of my jobs, scholarships, leadership positions, and friendships, but it hasn't robbed me of my faith. I believe that God is putting me through this for a reason, even though I can't see why right now. I also believe that I'm still in here... somewhere. The real Kelly is just hiding right now.

But I'm going to find her. She'll be back. 

And she's going to fight like crap to be back at school in the Spring.

Sweater of Faith?

Hello! 

If you're reading this, you were somehow directed to my blog. Whether you're here by divine intervention, fate, purpose, or on accident, welcome! I'm glad you're here and hope you are too.

In all honesty, I've never blogged before. It took me long enough to learn the ins and outs of Twitter, the unwritten rules of Snapchat and Instagram, and let's be honest, Facebook is ALWAYS changing. This is my first time blogging and I'm not sure if it's going to stick or not, but we'll see. Please bear with me as I find my voice and learn how to share it.

So then, why Sweater of Faith?

I'm sure you're all imagining something like this...

Or maybe even this...

In all honesty, I chose this title for a variety of reasons.

First of all, I love Jesus Christ with my whole heart. He has helped me in every area of my life and continues to lead me through this world. I believe in Him, take refuge in Him, and trust that His way is better than anything I could ever dream of.

Secondly, I love sweaters. The feeling of warmth creeping over my skin and keeping me comfortable is one of the simple things in life that I love. 

Proverbs 31:25 states, "She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future." God himself clothes us. Granted in this verse, "clothed" is being used in a metaphorical sense. Either way, when I think of God clothing me, I imagine Him swaddling me like a baby, tucking me in, and making sure there are no loose ends. He puts me in a sweater of strength and dignity. He covers me with Himself. The depth of love that we receive from God cannot be fathomed, but when I imagine it, I imagine Him wrapping His arms around me and keeping me cozy through the rough times in life. 

So I'm challenging you to wear your own Sweater of Faith. Life will throw dirt on it. Life will put holes in it. But at the end of the day, you can look down and see the material constantly cleaned, replenished, and sewn back together. Why? Because that's what Christ does. He helps us through the trials of life and makes us new through the power of His blood. The God that kept Moses clothes from tearing as he spent 40 years in the wilderness is the same God that clothes you with His love.

Let God keep you cozy. Put on your Sweater of Faith.

God bless,

-Kelly

Oh, and here's one more sweater.. mainly because I found it while looking up the others and would actually wear this one. :)