Disconnecting

Today at lunch (which I actually took for once) I was reading an article about celebs who were stepping away from social media for one reason or another, and I just wanted to share some thoughts and experiences I've had, and why I think it is absolutely important for mental health to set a healthy boundary with social media and technology in general. 

I have an unhealthy relationship with my phone. I spend way too much time on it, and way more time than I'm proud to admit on social media. I would love to be more disconnected from my phone, but I also have family spread across the country, and whenever I try to leave my phone in another room I get anxious. 

So how do you find a balance between not having your phone attached to you like an extra limb while combatting the guilt, stress, or anxiety of being out of reach? Spoiler alert, I do not have the answer for you. I barely have an idea of how to do it for me, and I'd venture to guess it's different for everyone.

I didn't fully realize how much media was affecting me until a couple years ago. My husband and I were starting to try to conceive, and we discovered we have some fertility issues and it isn't going to be an easy journey for us. As I was trying to cope with the thing I wanted more than anything, a family, becoming out of reach it felt like everyone I had ever interacted with was getting pregnant.

Friends from high school and college were posting pregnancy announcements, and my social media feeds felt like they were being flooded with happy couples and newborns. It all came to a head while I was watching New Girl. A character found out they were pregnant and I just lost it. "Can we have 1 show where people aren't getting pregnant?" I posted my anger on Facebook and stopped watching the show for months. I had gotten to the point where even fictional characters getting pregnant had me sobbing.  

I knew it wasn't rational to be distraught over pregnancy plotlines, and my friends probably weren't getting pregnant to spite me. But I was upset, I was grieving, and screens weren't helping. Admittedly, rage quitting TV shows and avoiding my timeline in hopes of missing more "We're Pregnant" posts weren't intentional steps I took to benefit my mental health. But the space from those things might have helped me open my eyes to some of the things around me that did help me heal. For me it was talking to my Mom and my best friend, insights from my Pastor, a lot of angry and tearful prayers, and having to fall back on faith. 

God and church aren't for everyone, and I never want you to feel like I'm slapping a God bandaid on things and calling it good. God was part of healing for me, but the more important takeaway is that taking a step away from the things that were upsetting me was really necessary for me to clear my mind and find some ways to heal. 

I now make a more conscious effort to avoid certain kinds of shows and content when I'm in a fragile place. I have to step away from my beloved true crime podcasts when my depression flares up, and sometimes I'm not in a place to watch intense shows or even happy ones with certain plotlines. 

I try to put my phone to the side when I'm reading or cross-stitching so I'm not tempted to investigate every single notification. I even went through my phone and turned off a ton of notifications. There is nothing happening on social media that requires my immediate attention. Facebook comments shouldn't pull me away from time with my friends and family. Every text doesn't have to be immediately answered. 

Just recently I started putting my phone on do not disturb at night. If someone on a specific, and short, list of people calls me, my phone will go off. Other than that, no pings or vibrations, which used to wake me up at night and give me anxiety. 

Sometimes we need space. For me, it's from social media and being constantly reachable. For you, it might be something else. The most important thing we can do though is to pay attention to our minds and our bodies. We get sent signals and warning signs when things aren't right, and we have to be responsible for noticing them and adjusting what we're doing. 

Infertility still plagues me. Images of happy families and pregnancy announcements still hurt, and sometimes I feel more bitter than happy. But now I know when I need to step back. I know when I need to put my phone face down and dig into what's happening in my brain. I take time to journal, to reflect on why things are more triggering today, and step away from sources of stress until I feel more confident about my headspace. 

I feel pretty confident in saying that the world will not crumble if you step away from Instagram for an hour. Take the time to think about how social media is benefitting you, and the answer isn't a blanket 'it isn't'. I love memes and videos of cute animals, and laughing at Tik Toks. Focus in on the good things the digital age can give you, and take the time to think about if there are other things you want to focus on instead of feed scrolling. 

Find your balance. Find your peace. Find a strategy that works for you. You deserve to have peace in your soul.  

Purging & Praying

 As I’m growing up and (hopefully) becoming more mature, I’ve been reflecting on my past. After a lot of therapy, growing up, and learning, I’m seeing choices, relationships, and experiences I went through with new clarity. And while I’m proud of myself for that growth, I think a bit of turmoil comes with reevaluating and reliving these experiences.

I’ve been thinking a lot about some of my past relationships, and I’m only now realizing how destructive they were. I’m just now seeing them for what they really are, and how they broke me, and to put it plainly, it’s upsetting as hell. Not only am I trying to come to terms with some traumatic stuff, but I have to do it years after the fact when there’s no possibility of a confrontation or apology.

I can’t dress down an old friend who betrayed everything our years-long friendship stood for. I don’t get to yell at the boy who used me over and over for his own gain, knowing I cared too much for him to ever say no. There’s no way to recant my apology to my rapist.

So where do these feelings go? How do you find peace after digging up the past and realizing what it was without the rose-colored glasses of youth and naivety? I’m not the same person I was then, and I hope with all my heart they aren’t either. I hope we’ve all grown, and I hope the person I am now can be some kind of penance for the pain I’m sure I caused other people.

The only way I know to grapple with being torn this way is to pray. To turn the pain and hurt over to God and ask him to help me find the path to forgiveness. They say the hardest apology to accept is the one you never get, and I know that none of these people will ever stand on my doorstep to say they’re sorry. That’s hard to accept, but I genuinely hope that if I ever found myself in front of any of them I would have the grace to smile and wish them well, and I hope that anyone I hurt knows that I regret being their villain, and I am working to be a better version of myself.

So here, where no one or everyone may see, I’ll say my piece and make my peace.

To the girl I thought would always be in my life…

I hate how you ended our friendship. You took my deepest, darkest fear and you made it a reality. You spat on the years I spent trying to be everything for you, on the time I spent trying to help you heal, on every moment I worried about your peace and happiness.

I pray that you’ve found peace. I pray that you’ve learned to love yourself the way you deserve because you deserve love without condition, that doesn’t need to be earned, and that will never falter. I pray that you love the life you’ve built, that you smile every single day, and that you’ve found genuine people to surround yourself with.

To the boy who chose my body over my friendship…

I detest what you let me do for you. I despise that I was willing to be the other woman and betray another woman, just for your time. I hate that you chose to use me and to use my body over the friendship I gave you and would have always given you. I hate the girl I was with you, and I hate that you let her exist for your own use.

I pray that you care for the people in your tribe deeply and that you give more than you take from the hearts of those around you. I hope you sing loudly and freely and find something in each day that makes you laugh. I pray you’ve found phenomenal relationships that you nurture and cherish, and I hope people return that to you in spades. I pray that you’re happy and that one day I find enough forgiveness in myself to remember only your best qualities.

To the man who broke me into shards of who I could’ve been…

You stole from me. You stole who I could’ve been, you stole my trust, you stole my faith. You forced me to live through hell and experience a hell that I would never wish unto anyone, not even you. You burned every bridge that could lead to pure peace.

I pray that you find a way to heal from the hurt that made you who you were. I pray you feel truly loved by the people around you, and I pray you never feel unworthy of that love. I pray you’re given second chances to make amends and that you take them. I pray that every day of your life you find more things to love than to hate. I pray you have peace from your demons and know that I no longer see you as one of mine.

 

 

Spicy Disaster Spokesgirl

This afternoon I sat at a small table by a window at work, eating lunch, and working on my bible study notes. People walked by and complimented the pink dress I had on; my CEO commented on how focused I was. To a stranger walking by I looked like a pulled-together girl boss who was using her lunch to commune with the Lord. 

Far from it folks. I wasn’t even trying that hard to hide my mess.  

1. The lunch I was casually eating at the sun-soaked table was microwave pizza bites because I had no drive to even grab a Healthy Choice meal on my way out the door. 

2. My cute curly updo was actually just my hair in a top knot because I couldn't sleep until like 2 a.m. and I barely had the energy to get out of bed this morning, much less wash my hair. 

3. A lead ball of stress, anxiety, and tension was sitting firmly in my stomach, its source unknown.

4. The workbook I was writing in was a last-minute assignment I put off until the literal last possible second, and most of my responses were half-hearted or about how I felt like an idiot when I tried to “witness the grace around me and thank God for it”

a. Also, I forgot to capitalize “Him/Lord/He” like you’re supposed to but I wasn’t writing with an erasable pen cause my ADHD had me hyper-focused on a different style of pen this week. 

5. I had a big glass of cold water next to me that I wasn’t drinking fast enough because I was running on iced coffee and Adderall to drag myself through the day

6. I was frazzled because I had gotten all the way to work before I realized I was still wearing my dog walking flip flops so I had to go home and change because society has told me that if I don’t look my best I’m never going to be respected or successful. 

7. It was hard to focus because my internal battle over “enjoy being in the moment” and “why the f*ck aren’t you thinner and prettier and more productive and helping more people and doing more good” were raging in the background of my head as always

8. A tab in my mind was playing “Financial Worry Sonata #4” as I subconsciously stressed about not saving enough money, medical debt, and the price tag of the crown I need to get on my tooth next week

That’s honestly just a surface-level snapshot. I have deeper demons and an endless list of other imperfections no one sees until my inner dialogue imagines them judging me. People saw happy Liz from marketing sitting in the sun enjoying her lunch and passionately working on something. 

The part that kills me is that if I walked by someone in that position, I would spend a minimum of two days wishing I could be more like them or thinking about all the ways I fail to live up to my potential on a minute-by-minute basis. 

We all do it. We all take a cursory glance at a friend or coworker or stranger and spend endless hours comparing ourselves to a snapshot we’ve put dozens of filters over. I used to spend my car rides home from church silently wishing I could be as good of a Christian as my best friend. Then one day she said she wished she could be as good of a Christian as me.

Y’all I could’ve run off the road right then. This girl knows the bible backward and forward. She leads worship music that makes me feel alive. She can quote scripture and answer any question I have and she has a heart that would put any Saint to shame. The woman who I idolized thought she was lesser than me. We had both been silently comparing ourselves to one another and feeling like we were coming up short. 

How crazy is that? First, there is no checklist for being a good person or living your life ‘right’. If there was I would have found it by now. Secondly, we all know we put our best foot forward when we walk out the door and we keep our mess behind the scenes. So if we know that we’re doing that, how on earth do we not realize that EVERYONE is doing it?

We’re all doing our best. We’re just trying. Some days we do better than others. Some days we don’t even have it in us to try. Then we walk out the door and keep a tally of all the people we’re worse than. It’s insanity. 

I’d love for this to be the part where I tell you to rise above it like me and live a life free of judgment and critique. I’d love to tell you I’ve embraced my true ‘me’ and now I’m free and happy and butterflies shoot out my butt. Ain’t true. 

My bestie and I still compare ourselves to others. I still put on a happy face to hide my mess and never think anyone else is doing the same. I keep a mental list of all the ways the people around me are better than me, and it literally makes me sick. I can feel that stress ball in my stomach. I feel anxiety clamping around my heart. I can sense the tidal wave of spiraling thoughts before it keeps me up until 2 a.m.

It's all so much easier said than done. It’s so easy when I’m surrounded by my bible study group to declare my independence from it all. “God made me, and he loves me just as I am!” I declare until I get home and silently call myself pathetic for not having put my clothes away yet.  

My self-worth is a ping pong ball. Some days I feel good and I’m happy and I find peace where I’m planted, but some days nothing I do is right, and I will never recover from all the failures I’ve enacted. But if I can do one thing, it’s pull back the curtain to show you my mess. 

I give advice I don’t follow. I eat junk food and don’t work out and lament about not being skinnier. I spend my evenings on my phone instead of cleaning up piles of laundry or unpacking boxes from my move three months ago. I fight with my husband and roll my eyes at my parents and never clean my car out. I prayed for years for my own office and now I barely even use it. I AM A MESS. 

We’re all a mess in one way or another. We all hide it, which is fine. You don’t have to put your mess on a Times Square billboard. Just try, even on hard days, to remember that we all have messes we hide, and no one has it totally figured out. Don’t let the life you imagine other people having make you feel bad. Try to drink some water, maybe eat a vegetable this week, and give yourself a break. 

You deserve it. 

Unconditionally

 To say my relationship and journey with religion has been tumultuous would be a pretty epic understatement. I went through times of unfounded faith, doubt, hate, agnosticism, and back around to a deep-rooted relationship with Jesus. I can remember when I was in my late teens and early twenties I would say “I didn’t ask Jesus to die for my sins”.

I felt like God expected me to follow his rules and be a “good Christian” because he had done something for me that I didn’t ask for. I didn’t want or need his grace or forgiveness or sacrifice. I felt like I was being guilted into religion and I was not here for it. 

Last year I stepped back into a church for the first time in years. I had no intention of liking it, or building a relationship with God. I was doing a favor for a friend, and I made it clear in my heart that nothing had changed, and no sermon was going to sway me to bow down to some invisible presence and thank him for something I never asked him to do.

Then one day it was like a lightbulb popped on in my brain. Like when you can’t think of a specific word then suddenly an hour later you remember it as easily as your own name. I didn’t ask Jesus to die for my sins. But he did it anyway. He didn't need to be asked to provide salvation for humanity, he wanted to.   

I didn’t ask for grace. I didn’t ask for forgiveness. I didn’t ask for unconditional love, but God was there waiting with it when I realized I wanted it. Thousands of years before I existed, Jesus decided that he loved me, and that I was worthy of unconditional, endless love, even when I didn’t feel it. He loved me when I hated him. He loved me when I stopped believing. He loved me when I reluctantly stepped into a church in May of 2021 with hate and grief on my heart. 

Today, as we commemorate and celebrate the day Jesus sacrificed everything for us, I can’t help but think of the moment not that long ago when I was sitting in a small church in Saline and the lightbulb popped on. 

I know this sounds preachy, but even if religion isn’t your thing, there’s a lesson here. Like Jesus, there are people in this world who love us unconditionally. People who love us on our good days and our bad days. People who have decided they love us, and whose minds cannot and will not be changed. We don’t have to earn their love. We don’t have to accomplish tasks to be worthy of their affection. 

As someone who has spent agonizing years terrified that the people in my life would suddenly stop loving me, there is a much-needed peace to accepting and believing that love is not conditional. My mom isn’t going to stop loving me because I don’t vocalize my appreciation for her. My husband isn’t going to fall out of love with me because my anxiety attacks are hard to handle. My best friends aren’t going to start hating me because I’m not perfect. 

There’s nothing I could ever do to lose that love in my life. Not from my friends, my family, or my God. There’s nothing the people I love could ever do to stop me from loving them. No one is keeping a chart of our actions to determine whether or not we deserve to be loved on any given day. And whether you feel that love from Jesus, from your family, from friends, or from your cat, please feel it deeply.

 Feel it at your best and worst. Feel it no matter what. Because love, spiritual or otherwise, is unconditional, and you are worthy of love at every single moment. 

Big Feels Today

 It's 8:30 a.m. and I'm already having a rough day. 

I'm so tired of people rolling their eyes at me, and so many others, wanting a better world. I'm tired of people being against goodness. I'm sick of all the infighting and the blame and the hate we spew towards one another. I'm just tired of existing in a world like this. 

I was 8 years old when I had my first active shooter drill at school. Around that age we were told to have a code word for if anyone other than our parents picked us up from school so we wouldn't get kidnapped. I learned about how Dr. King was murdered because he wanted people to be equal. I watched a music video about a little girl who was beaten to death by abusive parents. I saw people jump from the Twin Towers as they fell. 

I was 8 years old when people started to teach me that the world is a bad place. I was a child when I learned that people would murder each other recklessly for no reason. 20 years later I still get an uneasy feeling in my stomach in movie theatres, because what if someone walks in and starts shooting? I carry my phone with me at all times because what if I need to call 9-1-1 when someone comes into my workplace with a gun? 

I worry about having a baby girl. I worry about her skipping meals to try and be skinny. I worry one day someone she trusts will try to rape her. I worry about having a son. How do I raise him to not be Brock Turner? How do I raise them to be careful of bad people while encouraging them to help strangers?

Some days I feel like the odds are stacked against people. I know there are incredible people out there who are going to change the world, but sometimes I wonder how they'll do it. People scoff when I say that having a reliable car shouldn't be a privilege. The people who run this country actively work against helping people. 

You shouldn't have to work your fingers to the bone to afford childcare, or food, or a nice place to live. Kids should all have access to well funded schools with caring teachers. Every single person who dreams of going to college should be able to, without financial ruin. No one should be homeless. No one should be denied healthcare because of a price tag. The quality of your life should have nothing to do with where you were born or the color of your skin or how much money your parents had. 

We need to stop scoffing at the people who want better. We need to stop seeing everything as an attack on our values. We have to stop thinking about ourselves only, and putting the well being of the world on the back burner. These issues aren't across the globe, though that shouldn't mean we don't care. 

Kids are getting shot up the street from your house. Families are starving in your neighborhood. People are suffering an arms length away and it feels like no one cares. If we can't have enough grace to let someone merge onto the highway in front of us, how are we supposed to help anyone? 

I don't have an inspirational message today. I don't have an uplifting story or a witty quote. I'm just tired. So many of us are tired, but so many more are uninterested, and it breaks my heart a little more every day.