Thor's Hammer
I have been having a really hard time with life the last couple of weeks. It feels as though all I can manage is staring off into space and wonder how am I supposed to get all of the things I need to get done, done. I am a happy person, but some of you may know that I struggle with severe depression and anxiety.
One night, I laid in bed wondering how I could possibly explain the feelings I was feeling to my husband. He has recently been having a hard time seeing me so morose. In attempts to make me feel better, he would bring me food, hold me as I cried, and told me it would be alright.
As I laid there, I kept thinking that maybe it would be easier for him if he could understand how I was feeling. There seemed to be only one way I could describe my depression and anxiety; Thor's hammer.
For any of those Marvel fans out there, you'll know that Thor's hammer appears to be extremely heavy. It can only be handled and lifted by Thor himself and those who are worthy of Thor's power (aka almost no one). The best way I could describe how I feel is to have someone close their eyes and imagine Thor's hammer is sitting on their chest. It's heavy. It's crushing. You keep trying to lift it off of you but it pulls you down, almost as if it's trying to burry you in the ground. It stops you from completing simple tasks like eating, showering, getting dressed, and seeing your friends and family. All you can do is lay in bed stuck inside your thoughts. You overthink, over analyze, and hope and pray that this darkness that engulfs you will soon go away.
Depression and anxiety is very much like Thor's hammer. To an outsider, it may just seem like a simple hammer, or in this case, simply a bad day. I understand why others would think this. I, on the outside, am typically always (with the help of medication) a happy person. I love to exercise, communicate with others, and learn about new things. I typically won't stay in my room all day and try not to miss out on exciting plans with others.
I do know that some people think that viewing life more positively will cure depression. In reality, I do think positively, and I do have my good days, and it does help. But that does not elevate the dark cloud that lingers in my brain and around my heart. This single cloud makes daily tasks like completing homework or grocery shopping a much more physically and mentally taxing chore than it would to a normal person.
I go to school full-time and I have missed a few classes due to my depressive episodes. I am fortunate to go to a College that is genuinely caring and supportive of their students.
One day, I walked into a class that I had missed several times. My professor stated, "Welcome back, Ellieana! We missed you last class."
Normally I would proceed in explaining how I had a migraine, was sick, or would make up ill attempt to describe lightly what I had been going through. Instead, this time, I said, "I took a Mental Health Day."
I am positive my professor did not try to come off as rude or inconsiderate, but rather jokingly, he said, "You sure do take a lot of Mental Health Days!"
I smiled, nodded, and went on with my day. Later that night, I reflected on what he had said to me. I realized that I do take a lot of days for my mental health. Most of my peers can go to school full-time while participating in clubs and can work 20+ hours a week. Me, on the other hand, can hardly keep up with my school work, personal family responsibilities, class attendance, and 10-15 hours of work. By the end of my week I am drained, unmotivated, and discouraged. I often cry in the shower wondering how in the heck I am supposed to keep up with all of it. Then, I feel worse because I look at the people around me and see how much more of a load they can carry.
What I forget to remind myself, though, is that most (obviously I am generalizing) of those people don't carry Thor's hammer with them, strapped to their chest like a bomb. They don't know how it feels to walk on eggshells with their own selves because they're worried that bomb might go off and trigger a whole 7-day setback. They don't have a constant weight they have to trudge around with. They don't know the ups and downs and the trying-to-stay-afloat feeling that I am faced with daily.
Some of you do know this feeling. And please know that I feel for you. Deeply, wholly, I feel for you.
The biggest lie depression and anxiety have ever allowed me to believe is that I am alone. I take comfort in knowing that there are others out there struggling with the same things I am. I don't wish this struggle upon anyone. I am thankful, though, to be able to find others I can lean on and connect with when times get tough.
I am thankful for those people closest to me who are "worthy of Thor's hammer", who are able to clear the storm a little enough to allow me to see the good in life. My husband, who holds me when I am in despair. My mom, who reminds me that I am capable of anything. My dog, oddly enough, who is completely unaware of the comfort he offers a troubled soul. And most importantly, "Thor himself", my Heavenly Father, who is able to see things ahead of me that I am not yet able to. Who reminds me that I am here for a reason, and I have a purpose, and that I can do all things through Him.
There are always others who have it worse than I do.
Always.
I want to express with those who are struggling, like me, that you are not alone. Depression and anxiety are burdens. They carry you down into your darkest self that you never wanted to know was inside of you.
For those of you who might know someone that struggles with these things, I invite you to educate yourself on the subject. Love unconditionally those who are struggling. Remind them that they are worth the fight.
Life is divine. Life is fulfilling. Life is worth living. Life was never meant to be lived unhappily. Remind them of that. Remind them of the whole picture. When you feel like your patience is thinning, (because we know we are rather taxing) know that there will be better days. We rely on you. We love you. We thank you for your support.
One night, I laid in bed wondering how I could possibly explain the feelings I was feeling to my husband. He has recently been having a hard time seeing me so morose. In attempts to make me feel better, he would bring me food, hold me as I cried, and told me it would be alright.
As I laid there, I kept thinking that maybe it would be easier for him if he could understand how I was feeling. There seemed to be only one way I could describe my depression and anxiety; Thor's hammer.
For any of those Marvel fans out there, you'll know that Thor's hammer appears to be extremely heavy. It can only be handled and lifted by Thor himself and those who are worthy of Thor's power (aka almost no one). The best way I could describe how I feel is to have someone close their eyes and imagine Thor's hammer is sitting on their chest. It's heavy. It's crushing. You keep trying to lift it off of you but it pulls you down, almost as if it's trying to burry you in the ground. It stops you from completing simple tasks like eating, showering, getting dressed, and seeing your friends and family. All you can do is lay in bed stuck inside your thoughts. You overthink, over analyze, and hope and pray that this darkness that engulfs you will soon go away.
Depression and anxiety is very much like Thor's hammer. To an outsider, it may just seem like a simple hammer, or in this case, simply a bad day. I understand why others would think this. I, on the outside, am typically always (with the help of medication) a happy person. I love to exercise, communicate with others, and learn about new things. I typically won't stay in my room all day and try not to miss out on exciting plans with others.
I do know that some people think that viewing life more positively will cure depression. In reality, I do think positively, and I do have my good days, and it does help. But that does not elevate the dark cloud that lingers in my brain and around my heart. This single cloud makes daily tasks like completing homework or grocery shopping a much more physically and mentally taxing chore than it would to a normal person.
I go to school full-time and I have missed a few classes due to my depressive episodes. I am fortunate to go to a College that is genuinely caring and supportive of their students.
One day, I walked into a class that I had missed several times. My professor stated, "Welcome back, Ellieana! We missed you last class."
Normally I would proceed in explaining how I had a migraine, was sick, or would make up ill attempt to describe lightly what I had been going through. Instead, this time, I said, "I took a Mental Health Day."
I am positive my professor did not try to come off as rude or inconsiderate, but rather jokingly, he said, "You sure do take a lot of Mental Health Days!"
I smiled, nodded, and went on with my day. Later that night, I reflected on what he had said to me. I realized that I do take a lot of days for my mental health. Most of my peers can go to school full-time while participating in clubs and can work 20+ hours a week. Me, on the other hand, can hardly keep up with my school work, personal family responsibilities, class attendance, and 10-15 hours of work. By the end of my week I am drained, unmotivated, and discouraged. I often cry in the shower wondering how in the heck I am supposed to keep up with all of it. Then, I feel worse because I look at the people around me and see how much more of a load they can carry.
What I forget to remind myself, though, is that most (obviously I am generalizing) of those people don't carry Thor's hammer with them, strapped to their chest like a bomb. They don't know how it feels to walk on eggshells with their own selves because they're worried that bomb might go off and trigger a whole 7-day setback. They don't have a constant weight they have to trudge around with. They don't know the ups and downs and the trying-to-stay-afloat feeling that I am faced with daily.
Some of you do know this feeling. And please know that I feel for you. Deeply, wholly, I feel for you.
The biggest lie depression and anxiety have ever allowed me to believe is that I am alone. I take comfort in knowing that there are others out there struggling with the same things I am. I don't wish this struggle upon anyone. I am thankful, though, to be able to find others I can lean on and connect with when times get tough.
I am thankful for those people closest to me who are "worthy of Thor's hammer", who are able to clear the storm a little enough to allow me to see the good in life. My husband, who holds me when I am in despair. My mom, who reminds me that I am capable of anything. My dog, oddly enough, who is completely unaware of the comfort he offers a troubled soul. And most importantly, "Thor himself", my Heavenly Father, who is able to see things ahead of me that I am not yet able to. Who reminds me that I am here for a reason, and I have a purpose, and that I can do all things through Him.
There are always others who have it worse than I do.
Always.
I want to express with those who are struggling, like me, that you are not alone. Depression and anxiety are burdens. They carry you down into your darkest self that you never wanted to know was inside of you.
For those of you who might know someone that struggles with these things, I invite you to educate yourself on the subject. Love unconditionally those who are struggling. Remind them that they are worth the fight.
Life is divine. Life is fulfilling. Life is worth living. Life was never meant to be lived unhappily. Remind them of that. Remind them of the whole picture. When you feel like your patience is thinning, (because we know we are rather taxing) know that there will be better days. We rely on you. We love you. We thank you for your support.
"... today I am speaking of something more serious, of an affliction so severe that it significantly restricts a person’s ability to function fully, a crater in the mind so deep that no one can responsibly suggest it would surely go away if those victims would just square their shoulders and think more positively—though I am a vigorous advocate of square shoulders and positive thinking!No, this dark night of the mind and spirit is more than mere discouragement.
So how do you best respond when mental or emotional challenges confront you or those you love? Above all, never lose faith in your Father in Heaven, who loves you more than you can comprehend. As President Monson said to the Relief Society sisters so movingly last Saturday evening: “That love never changes. … It is there for you when you are sad or happy, discouraged or hopeful. God’s love is there for you whether or not you feel you deserve [it]. It is simply always there.”Never, ever doubt that, and never harden your heart.
If you are the one afflicted or a caregiver to such, try not to be overwhelmed with the size of your task. Don’t assume you can fix everything, but fix what you can. If those are only small victories, be grateful for them and be patient. Dozens of times in the scriptures, the Lord commands someone to “stand still” or “be still”—and wait. Patiently enduring some things is part of our mortal education.
Whatever your struggle, my brothers and sisters—mental or emotional or physical or otherwise—do not vote against the preciousness of life by ending it! Trust in God. Hold on in His love. Know that one day the dawn will break brightly and all shadows of mortality will flee. Though we may feel we are “like a broken vessel,” as the Psalmist says, we must remember, that vessel is in the hands of the divine potter. Broken minds can be healed just the way broken bones and broken hearts are healed. While God is at work making those repairs, the rest of us can help by being merciful, nonjudgmental, and kind."
Like a Broken Vessel by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland
Comments
Post a Comment