Single-minded

I've been thinking a lot lately not just about the role of women in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, but especially about my own role in it, and of it in my life. With working towards a second bachelor's degree, one of my main aims is to be happier, since I have this vision in my head of a much better workplace, where I get to be more creative and DO things and where little birds sing beautiful songs outside my window. Okay, maybe not that last part...

Perhaps spurred on by the fact that I'm a year into the program and still taking introductory courses, and after listening to several podcasts and TedX talks about how to actually have a great career and be happy and junk, I am coming to realize (a year later...) that what I've been searching for and wanting change for is to find happiness and, more important, meaning in my life.

The closer I get to the birthday cake in the shape of a tombstone and the black balloons, the harder a time I have feeling a place at church. So much of the role of women is defined around being a wife and a mother. Two roles that I don't know that I will ever have in this life. And I feel that I need to find a way to be okay with that, because unless/until it happens, all I have is a sense of bitterness, a tendency to joke about the benefits of polygamy for those who were looked over as first wives, and a short list of historical figures I might consider hooking up with in the after life, assuming they've accepted the gospel by then. (Beethoven is currently at the top of the list, in case you're wondering.)

I tend to get wrapped up at this point in my ponderings on the cultural problems around dating in LDS culture. Perhaps I'll make a snarky post some time later about how much of a mess that situation is, but for now, I'll try to save it. I personally am not very good at navigating the scene, especially when it starts to prey on my self-esteem issues. (I'm sure you've heard the announcer in my ear blaring helpful things like, "They're all so much prettier than you, of course the guys wouldn't notice you and even if they did, they can totally see all your flaws really clearly before you even talk, so why don't you just go home and give up?")

So. Anyway.. Back to the whole possible/probably lack of marriage, lack of kids, lack of this life that I always wanted, that I still want. All this other stuff I've been doing with my life -- it's always seemed like some sort of filler until I can get married and get to grips with learning to live with another person, lose sleep over babies, change messy diapers, miss adult conversation, and all the other things that come with having your own family.

Instead, I'm looking at a life with good friends, good family in the form of siblings, in-laws, the best mom in the world, and a great step-dad, as well as step-siblings that I see infrequently but that are cool when we do meet. And great cousins. And Gus, of course. Which are all good things, but even with the some-day-it-will-get-here career change at the end of my degree program, I still feel like there's just not enough meaning in my life. I suppose this could be one of the things making it hard for me to sleep and ensuring I'm awake with less than 4 hours to go until I need to be getting up. Which will ensure a grump-filled, meaningless-feeling day.

Always Learning

Since I started a new degree program last year, I've remembered that I actually do like learning new things. I've done well in all my classes. But I also find myself falling back into some of the mental habits from school. If I don't get an A, then I FAILED. I worry what the other students will think of me, what the teacher will think of me. Stuff like that. On the plus side, this isn't very powerful. I think I'm mostly able to kick the bad thoughts out of my brain. I just need to pass the class, not excel. If I lose points for something I did wrong, oh well. If I think the point deduction was unfair, I can complain. If the class doesn't seem to be doing what I want it to, I can address that with the teacher. So, it seems I've learned at least somewhat how to have a more healthy mental mindset about this school thing.

Sadly, this isn't the same in all situations. Work, church, roommates--all more complicated situations. I haven't quite been able to rid myself of the acceptance of emotional responsibility for things that I don't actually have responsibility for. Or something. Is blogging at 1am a good thing or a bad thing? Or just a thing? It should be a thing, since it seems about the only time I pause to think about these things. Which is probably because I spend a good part of the day trying to avoid thinking about them. But, on the plus side I can tell how much I've learned about video games through playing Thief: Gold. Or at least trying to. The controls are soooo clunky compared to other games I'm used to. I can't strafe or even back up! Who can't walk backwards? Apparently, Garret. Some Master Thief he is! *disdainful sniff*

One thing I haven't learned yet is how to sleep. Even with ambien. *sigh* If this takes much longer, I may end up getting up and doing some more room-cleaning. Which is terrifying for all concerned. There are whole families of dust bunnies I would disturb!

Fixer Problem

For the past couple of months, I've been trying to work through some of the grief of my father's passing. It has been a lot more difficult because he was, well, a difficult person. Much as I haven't wanted to delve into the issues, it's been good for me to face the emotions and learn to accept my feelings. I'm now looking at the fact that I tend to default to the role of "Fixer." I feel responsible for making sure everybody is happy, or at least pretending so. This usually means that I sacrifice my own feelings and desires. Not a formula for long-term happiness, though in certain situations, it's how I learned to survive.

I've realized that, at work, the role of Fixer is strong for me. I want to fix not just things that are broken or suboptimal, but relationships and basically every problem that gets within my gravitational field. On a conscious level, I know this is not healthy. I know I can't solve everybody's problems, however much I should like. And again, getting into the martyr cycle is not good for long-term happiness. When I realized that I had adopted this role at work and that I should get out of it, I though, "But then what good am I?"

Sadly, though I've tried to come up with a positive answer to that question, I'm still struggling with it. The Fixer is so much a part of me. I think it may be helpful to define a new role, something like the Problem Solver. Because it's not like life won't continue to have problems. But the Fixer versus the Solver approach could be different.

The Fixer needs to have control of everything in order to ensure the "right" answer is reached.
The Solver lets other people take responsibility for their portion of the problem and come up with a solution that is agreeable to all parties.

The Fixer feels responsible to solve problems, even if those problems aren't at all related to the person's work or personal responsibilities. (Some time I"ll tell you about the reasons I hate the Metro that fall in this category.)
The Solver identified problems that must be solved in relation to work and personal life, but also does not accept responsibility for solving problems that don't fall into those realms. (For example, not volunteering to figure out how to use the new CRM tool to do grant competitions, since grant competitions aren't my responsibility.)

The Fixer is always paranoid that she'll encounter a problem she can't solve, and is always on edge about not fixing things quickly enough. It's a very emotional, scary place to be.
Because she approaches things more rationally, the Solver is able to more clearly set expectations for herself and others, so the time element is part of the problem. And, if it's taking longer, the Solver knows that it's okay to ask for help or an extension from the authority over the problem.

I think this is probably a good start on how to approach this. If I can give myself the picture of what I want to be, which isn't the Fixer, that will, I think, help me let go of the Fixer. Despite the pain she causes, I know she's worked for me in the past, so it's absolutely terrifying to think of letting her go, at least not without knowing that life won't completely collapse without her. And since she is a part of me, this gets very confusing, pronoun-wise.

Thanks for listening!

I had a visit with a new neurologist for my migraines and sleep apnea. It was one of the best doctor's appointments I have ever had. He didn't do much different than my previous neurologist in terms of checking reflexes and listening to things and all that, but he actually listened and responded to my concerns. He noted, for example, that my migraines seem to have started around the same time I started my antidepressant. Maybe that's a coincidence, maybe not, but because of that, we're trying a new medication. If it's something that simple? How amazing!

Of course, I'm also worried, because tinkering with meds can end up with meds that don't work. I'm going to have to keep a pretty sharp watch on my mood and anxiety levels over the next month. But I have a date for the next appointment, so if it's not working, we should know pretty soon.

The appointment lasted over an hour, and the time was all with the doctor. I don't know that I've ever had that much time with a doctor. I was so relieved when we were done, I nearly started crying. It felt so good to have had my concerns listened to and validated. Also, I know many people have been praying for me, and I felt very strongly that this visit was an answer to prayers. I hope that those of you struggling with issues can find the right medical professional who will take the time to help you with your concerns!

Med Monday: Mr. Monk

I'm a fan of mysteries, especially of the cozy variety. I really enjoyed the USA TV show "Monk" for about 2.5 seasons. Then came the episode "Mr. Monk Takes His Medicine." For those not familiar with it, the show follows Monk, a former San Francisco police detective who suffers from OCD. The death of his wife took him from being able to still function as a detective to non-functioning. He seems to be improving, and he has a nurse with him who helps monitor his condition and serves as a de facto Watson. In this particular episode, his psychiatrist prescribes a medication, with what the viewer is supposed to understand are disastrous results. His OCD is clearly cleared away, but he no longer cares at all about his work, and he can't remember his wife clearly anymore. So, he goes off the meds. (You can read a more detailed summary here.) This blew my enjoyment of the show, and I stopped watching not long after that.

This episode epitomized, for me, that the media seems so often to portray mental health medication as a bad thing. Monk was not himself on medication. Artists who take medication for mental health issues lose the ability to create. The message is that, if I take medication, I will not be myself. Yet medication and mental health issues are so much more complex than that.

Personally, I feel much more like myself on medication. I am not as obsessed with other people's opinions of me. It was like taking off a heavy coat. I am very, very lucky. First, I found a working medication with relatively little back-and-forth with the doctor. My side effects are relatively mild. My medication has continued to work. I have been able to deal with a lot of the issues that contribute to my depression. These things are not true for everybody. Some people have to try a number of different medications and combinations thereof. Some have to fiddle with dosages. Others have debilitating side effects, especially for those dealing with schizophrenia. Some have medication that works for a time, then stops working. Some have medication that work, but have difficulty in dealing with the non-physical aspects of their conditions, or with overcoming addictions or other bad habits formed as coping mechanisms prior to medication.

Another more insidious message from this episode is that people struggling with mental health issues have a choice. There's some magic formula that will cure them. If they aren't well, it's because they choose not to be well. Never mind if they haven't been able to find medication that works, or can't afford it, or have to deal with life-altering side-effects. This is, for me, a reflection of the message of "Just get over it." Everybody is down some times. Just get over it. Everybody is angry sometimes. Deal with it. Everybody feels a little nervous sometimes. What's the big deal?

Sure, I understand that the producer's probably didn't want to change the show's formula so drastically as to follow Monk as he starts to take back his life as he find a balance with his new medication. That wouldn't work for the very episodic format of the show. Yet the off-hand way that they treated the changes that the medication worked in his life also did not serve the many people who struggle with mental health issues.

NAMI Walk

This past September, I participated in my first ever awareness walk. It was arranged by the National Alliance on Mental Illness. I participated in a team of co-workers, colleagues, and the family of my late co-worker. I'm not much of a picture-taker, but I did snag this shot.

My boss's little boy was born only a short time before my co-worker's death. He was a sweet reminder to me at the time, as now, that life does, indeed, go on, and that it's important to cherish those we love.