Going to church with social anxiety and infertility

I'm having a hard time at the moment.

Sunday was hard.

Today has also been difficult. I feel like I'm living the overflow of depression that was Sunday.

I'm trying to stay positive but it is difficult.

As I tried to analyze my feelings, I realized that I have a very large compartment of feelings all their own for "going-to-church-with-social-anxiety" versus "going-to-work-with-social-anxiety" versus "dealing-with-people-due-to-social-anxiety". I used to think the "work" or "people" aspect of my social anxiety was the biggest. I'm figuring out, though, that church might very well be the biggest obstacle of all to overcome, and that there is more to it than meets the eye. And I'm not sure how to do it.

I've tried so hard these past few weeks to go over my therapy, read the positive statements, and fight off my automatic negative thoughts. And I thought I was doing better. I even felt better in work meetings. I felt better during interactions with people. I thought I had made progress.

And then Sunday came. And it felt as though all the progress I had made had been for nothing because I couldn't fight the onslaught of negativity that hit me head-on when I thought about going to church. Just thinking about going to church brought on feelings of despair, anger, depression and helplessness.

But I made myself go. Because that's what I do. And as I sat in sacrament meeting I had an overwhelming desire to leave. To never come back. To never have to deal with this again. And I have to say that if it weren't for the fear of losing my marriage or hurting my family, I would do it. I would walk away and never come back. Not because it's not true, but because it's just too hard to be there.

And I also realized as I was sitting in my if-I-had-my-way-this-would-be-my-last church meeting, that there was much more to it than social anxiety. Much more.

I mentioned in a previous post that my husband and I have been dealing with infertility for the last 4 years. We were late bloomers and married in our mid-30's, five years ago. Now I am only six months away from 40 and my child bearing years are diminishing right before my very eyes. We tried invitro, which ended in a devastating ectopic pregnancy. And just last month, we had to walk away from a 2nd attempt at invitro because the expense was impossible to meet.

And there I sat. In a sacrament meeting surrounded by babies. Everywhere I turned there were mothers and babies. And I felt angry. I felt sad. I felt cheated. I felt out of place. I saw before me, a hopeless future of dealing with this horrendous pain the rest of my life. Because we belong to a church that is all about babies. All about children. All about motherhood. And all about families. And we don't fit in. We don't fit the mold of a typical Mormon couple. And this would be our curse forever. And I didn't want anything to do with it.

I fought my way through the rest of the meetings and when we got home I told my husband how I felt. That if I could walk away and never go back I would, because it is torturous to be there. And I knew it would never change because that is the culture of the church. No matter how true the gospel is, the culture is made up of talks, activities, celebrations and discussions about babies, mothers and families. And we would never fit. And I wished I could take a few months off to get a handle on this, but in the back of my mind I knew if I took a break, I would never return.

So here I sit today, reviewing my thoughts and realizing there is so much more to it than dreading church because of social anxiety. It is also dreading church because of infertility. And yet it is all sweetly intertwined.

Social anxiety is based on the intense fear of being judged.

People with social anxiety do not want to be singled out.

People with social anxiety fear everyone is talking about them or looking at them, criticizing what they're doing or who they are.

I am infertile, in a very fertile church (so to speak)

I do stand out.

I am talked about.

I am pitied (and that's as hard as being criticized).

And the worst part is, there is nothing I can do to control or change it.

So I feel out of place, judged and insecure because I will never be like the typical LDS woman.

And I feel judged because I do stand out and will always stand out among the norm.

And I feel judged because I know people talk about me and wonder why we don't have kids

And I feel judged and insecure because the RS President shares personal stories with people and I know she has shared mine

And I feel judged and insecure because I know I will be asked for a lifetime why we don't have kids.

And I feel judged and insecure because I will always be the one who gets a flower on Mother's Day even though I'm not a mom.

And I feel judged and insecure and sad because I am pitied and no one wants to feel pitied.

I will never fit in. How can I? Even if I were to adopt I would still feel out of place because I couldn't share my birth story, which with Mormons, could happen at any given time.

Now I know the "everyone is talking about me" and "everyone is pitying me" statements sound a bit like a teenager, and I can admit that they aren't completely true or rational, but it's simply how I feel.

And with that, I will conclude my post. I have a huge obstacle to face and somehow overcome.

My social anxiety is intertwined with my infertility. And if I'm ever going to gain a love for going to church again and a desire to be part of a ward family, then I have a lot to figure out. And overcome.

• I need to somehow find peace and security in my state of fertility.
• I need to learn how not to compare myself to other people and how I do or don't fit the LDS mold.
• I need to find a way to separate my feelings of insecurity as they relate to infertility.
• I need to admit that my thoughts aren't completely true or rational, when it comes to how I think others are viewing me.
• I need to focus on the gospel instead of the culture of the church.
• I need to embrace the fact that I do stand out and will always stand out among the norm. And make that a blessing instead of a curse.